


Patria Potestas: Bloodlines

by JBankai89



Series: Patria Potestas [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood Curse, Body Changes, Body Dysphoria, Body Modification, Extreme Body Modification, M/M, Male Lactation, Mild Daddy Kink, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnancy complications, Slightly Dubious Consent (Pregnancy), Spanking, mild Dom/Sub, mild bondage, supportive spouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 91,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12788613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBankai89/pseuds/JBankai89
Summary: Three years into Harry and Sirius's marriage, time is running out to fulfill the second half of the Potestas curse: To produce an heir. Sirius has tried to keep from pushing Harry towards the decision, but Harry does not fail to notice how much his husband wants it. However, Harry is reluctant to bring a child into what is essentially a loveless marriage. Harry knows that he feels affection for his husband, but he cannot call it love.After another heated debate about the sore subject of children, Harry finally agrees to go forward with the procedure, but neither Sirius nor Harry are quite prepared for what such a massive decision would entail, or even if their tenuous, shaky relationship would even survive it.Things were about to getveryinteresting.





	1. Happy Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Aaaaaand we're back! Thank you guys so much for your continued support with this story, and your patience. I felt really bad about temporarily putting this story on hold, because I love it, and I still feel as though it's one of the best stories that I've ever written. Paired with all my other shit from the breakdown I became wholly [albeit temporarily] incapable with dealing with negative feedback, so forcing myself to ignore the haters was really difficult this time around, so getting myself to a place where I felt okay to work on this was extremely difficult. Your continued enthusiasm has been amazing, and I am so grateful to have such wonderful and passionate readers. 
> 
> Special Thank You/Shoutout to Ellen, QuackersParty, mdemeran, SJReading, Li, singerchick, theFearTakesHold, Cristina, Aura_Black, Poinsettia, RonnieDeVille, yaoigirlhp7, MrsWilliamHerondale, curiousmuse, Mia, Angel, and decanthrope for your personal messages of support during my breakdown. I was so afraid that I'd get angry comments for putting the fic on hold in such a way, but you guys pleasantly surprised me, and your words of support helped me crawl out of my black pit so much, so thank you from the bottom of my heart, for being so wonderfully supportive.
> 
>  
> 
> **At the moment, I will be posting every two weeks, because the first draft of the fic still is not complete, but I have about 7 chapters completed right now and I am hoping some feedback as I go will help me keep up with this. That said, the next update will be December 5th.**
> 
>  
> 
> Now, I want to remind you guys that this story **will** contain graphic mpreg and body modification. I know It's mentioned in the previous story's tags and author's notes, but I'm mentioning it again so you guys are aware of what's coming, and for those of you who might skim over such things. And, just so we're clear, the Violence tag is related to childbirth gore, not an attack or something.

Chapter One – Happy Anniversary

**25 th March, 2008 **

Harry Potter-Black smirked as he showed his hand of cards to his two best friends, and with a grumble, Hermione slammed down her own hand.

“I'm out,” she said, while Ron referred to the piece of parchment Harry and Hermione had co-written for him, showing him the various card combinations for the muggle game, and with a frown, he too, set down his cards. Harry's grin widened. “That's four games in a row you've won, Harry. You're cheating.”

“I am _not_ cheating,” Harry protested as he  pulled his mound of chocolate frog winnings towards himself, “you're just pants at poker.”

“It's good for you to be rubbish at one or two things, Hermione,” Ron filled in, and she scowled at her husband, just as a shrill cry rent the air, and she huffed.

“Hugo again,” she muttered, “I'll be right back. But don't think I'll forget that remark, Ronald Weasley!” she cried out as she hustled from the sitting room and down the hall, and almost the moment she disappear into Hugo's room the baby's cries began to soften.

“So why didn't your fair husband grace us with his presence?” Ron asked conversationally as he began to gather up and shuffle his cards, while Harry sipped his butterbeer.

“Firstly, because unlike me, he _does_ cheat at poker,” Harry replied, and Ron snorted. “Secondly, because Hermione would probably hex him if she caught him at it, and thirdly, because he's visiting with Andromeda and Teddy, or so he claims.”

“Or so he claims?” Ron asked, and blinked in confusion. “Why would he lie about that?”

“It's our anniversary in a fortnight,” Harry explained, and he felt himself flush under Ron's suggestive smirk. “Knowing him, he's either got something ridiculously lavish or ridiculously romantic planned.”

“Or both,” Ron filled in.

“Or both,” Harry agreed with a small laugh. “Last year, it was Venice, the year before, Paris...I feel kind of bad that he's shelling out all this gold for these trips...I'd be just as happy at home, or, if we must, a cottage in the country or something.”

“You already _live_ in a cottage in the country, you prat,” Ron replied, and Harry laughed again. “Damn, you must be amazing in bed, why else would he want to take you to all sorts of places like that?”

“Because unlike you, Ronald, Sirius is a romantic, and worships the ground Harry walks on,” Hermione said in as she stepped back into the room and sat back down. Harry flushed with embarrassment at her comment, but didn't offer up a response—it wasn't as though she was wrong.

 

In the past three years of their lives together as a wedded couple, Sirius seemed to revel in spoiling Harry rotten. Expensive trips, fancy gifts at his birthday and Christmas, and, of course, day-to-day things that Harry enjoyed, but could not help feeling a little embarrassed about at the same time. Neither of them really needed to worry about money, so the cost wasn't exactly an issue, but it still felt strange to accept such things from him—even if he _was_ his husband.

And, of course, to Ron's latter comment, Harry hid his indulgent smile behind his butterbeer bottle.

Things had been going well—a little _too_ well, in fact, and Harry was beginning to see the hairline cracks in the perfect little life he and Sirius had constructed for themselves.

It started about a year and a half into their marriage. Harry was fairly accustomed to the concept of Sirius as his husband, and thought of him as his godfather less and less. He'd come to enjoy their intimate time together, and had even instigated things once or twice, which thrilled Sirius to no end.

They had become quite affectionate, which Harry enjoyed—the hand-holding, the casual, public embraces and chaste kisses—and the occasional covert groping session.

However, after a time, Harry realized that there was one thing that Sirius desperately, almost painfully longed for, and it was something that Harry wasn't yet ready to give him.

Children.

Sirius hadn't said it, so far he'd kept his promise to wait until Harry felt ready, but he could still see the longing present itself in small ways in their day-to-day lives.

Like when Harry had found Sirius standing in their empty guest room, and had heard him mutter, “ _the crib would go here,_ ” as he stood in front of the large window, and his hand hovered just below the sill.

Or when he found Sirius in the back garden, and he casually proclaimed how the towering Oak tree would be the perfect place for a swing.

Or how Sirius's gaze would linger on the baby shops in Diagon Alley when they went there to re-stock or go out for lunch or dinner.

Or Sirius's pained looks that would cross his face when he willingly babysat for the Weasleys or Andromeda.

Harry may not have been the most observant person in the world, but he wasn't stupid. He knew how much Sirius wanted it, and he felt terribly guilty that he did not feel ready to give it to him.

At the same time, Sirius had thus far—more or less—kept his promise to Harry that they would wait until he felt ready before going forward with the procedure. As time went on, aside from these little moments, Harry often caught little tells that Sirius was thinking about it, and he seemed to be burning to ask Harry if he was ready, but always forced himself not to. This was not to say that he never brought it up, but thus far only every six months or so, and Harry hated the wounded puppy look that Sirius always seemed to adopt whenever Harry would awkwardly protest, or make an excuse before he quickly switched topics.

 

“Oi, I can be romantic!” Ron protested, his voice drawing Harry from his morose thoughts. “What about our honeymoon in Costa Rica? That was romantic...wasn't it?” he turned to Harry, who threw his hands up.

“Don't look at me, Ron, this is between you and Hermione,” he said, and the trio laughed.

 

~*~

 

Later that evening, Harry tumbled out of his fireplace, and Sirius looked up from his scotch and crossword as his young husband stood up and brushed himself off. Sirius set the two items aside and stood fluidly, sweeping over to Harry to cradle his chin in his hand and pull him in for a light kiss.

“Welcome home,” he replied with a soft smile, “how was your evening with your friends?”

“Not bad,” Harry replied before he leant in to return the light kiss, then stepped back to shrug out of his jumper and tossed it aside before he sat down on the end of the sofa, and Sirius pressed a cup of tea into his hands. Harry smiled gratefully, and took a small sip as Sirius settled back down at the other end. “It would have been more fun if Hugo had stayed asleep. The set of lungs that kid has, I swear...” Harry trailed off at the look of longing that crossed Sirius's face, and he mentally kicked himself for bringing it up at all. “So, er, how was Andromeda?”

“Fine,” Sirius said as he picked back up his crossword, and Harry sipped his tea again. “Teddy was asking for you, and he jabbered nonstop about how he wants to sleep over here instead of at Hogwarts next year.”

“Still on that, is he?” Harry asked, and Sirius nodded with a small chuckle.

“He was pretty adamant about it, Andromeda eventually got fed up and told him to go play.”

“Sounds like fun,” Harry said gently in an effort to lighten the mood, but Sirius's only response was a noncommittal grunt. Harry sighed, and eased back into the sofa as the tense atmosphere slowly disappeared, and a comfortable silence began to replace it.

The couple sat in more or less peaceful silence for the rest of the evening, but it wasn't without a background melancholy of the proverbial elephant in the room, but ever so slowly, the tension did begin to wane.

After Harry had finished his tea, he summoned one of the muggle novels that Hermione had lent him, and shifted his position on the sofa so that his head was propped comfortably against Sirius's thigh. The older man's hand immediately fell to his hair, and stroked it tenderly.

 

“I need a six-letter word for _impulsive_ ,” Sirius said casually about fifteen minutes later as his fingers stilled in Harry's hair.

“Sirius,” Harry answered at once with a cheeky grin, and Sirius snorted.

“Very funny,” he replied as he swatted Harry's cheek lightly, “I'm being serious.”

“And I'm being Harry,” Harry quipped, and this time Sirius rolled his eyes. 

“Practising your Dad Jokes, are you?” Sirius asked, and immediately the older man's expression fell, and Harry felt his stomach knot. “Fuck, I'm sorry, Harry,” he said quickly, “I didn't mean that like...a hint or something, it just slipped out.”

Harry sat up slowly and kissed Sirius once.

“I know,” Harry said, and reached out to brush a hand across the older man's cheek. A five o'clock shadow prickled under his fingers as he held the older man's gaze. “Don't overthink it, it was a slip of the tongue, I get that.” He pecked a light kiss over Sirius's slightly chapped lips, and he wrapped his hand over the back of Harry's neck to draw it out for a moment or two longer. Considering how exceptional Sirius's kisses were, Harry wasn't about to complain. “I know it's tricky territory,” Harry continued a moment later, “but I'm not going to lose my head if you use the D word, all right?”

“Dick?” Sirius asked, and Harry snorted.

“No.”

“Donkey?”

“ _No_.”

“Derelict?”

“ _Dad_ , you twit,” Harry said with a laugh as he swatted his shoulder. Sirius grinned, his hands dropping to Harry's waist, and he tugged him closer.

“I know,” he replied with a throaty chuckle, and leant in to offer Harry another tender kiss. “I just don't want you to feel like I'm pushing, because I'm really trying not to, but our time _is_ running a little short...”

“I know,” Harry echoed, “and I don't feel like you're pushing. Not really, anyway. I just...it's just...” Harry shook his head. “Forget it. I think I'll head to bed.”

Seeming to understand that the conversation was over—for the moment, at least—Sirius nodded and kissed him one last time.

“Sleep well, Harry.”

 

**8 th April, 2008**

Harry woke on the morning of his and Sirius's third wedding anniversary with an orgasm.

The wet mouth encasing his cock felt _wonderful_ , and before he was even properly awake he could feel his climax hit, and his semen shot into the back of Sirius's throat, which he swallowed without even a moment's hesitation.

“Happy Anniversary,” Sirius said with a Cheshire Cat grin when he'd finally released Harry's cock, then pulled Harry into a kiss, and he laughed as he returned it.

“You too...that's one hell of a way to wake up,” he replied as he kissed Sirius again.

“Well, you know how I love to spoil you...”

“You enjoy _spoiling_ me?” Harry asked with a note of sarcasm in his voice, and Sirius snorted. “I can't say I've _ever_ noticed that. I mean, you're not the type for _grand,_ romantic gestures, or lavish gifts, or extravagant holiday destinations, or—”

Sirius silenced him with another kiss, and Harry eagerly climbed into the older man's lap, while his hand dropped to wrap around the erection that was insistently pressing into his stomach.

“Can I take care of that for you?” Harry asked softly, and grinned when Sirius let out a small groan as he nodded.

Harry took his turn enthusiastically, pushing Sirius back onto the bed before he shuffled down his body and closed his lips around the tip of the older man's cock, and slowly worked the organ into his mouth.

He made it two-thirds of the way in before it brushed the back of Harry's throat, and Sirius let out an appreciative groan as he felt one of the older man's large hands brush the back of his neck encouragingly. Harry shivered a little as he began to bob his head, his tongue pressing against Sirius's slit, trailing up the underside of his cock, while he moved a hand to fondle his bollocks, all of which reduced Sirius to a gibbering, shuddering mess.

Sirius found his release fairly quickly, and Harry swallowed it without even a moment's pause. When he sat back up, his husband was splayed out on their bed and panting hard while he stared dazedly up at the ceiling.

Grinning, Harry climbed back up the bed and settled into his side. Sirius's arm immediately looped around his shoulders, and Harry let out a small sigh of contentment.

“So, what ridiculously romantic plan do you have for today?”

“And why would I tell you, and spoil the surprise?” Sirius asked as he arched a brow.

“Because you _adore_ me,” Harry teased, one of his arms lazily draping across Sirius's chest while his fingers idly tugged and played with at the chest hairs that he found there, and he grinned up at his husband.

“Don't think I'll cave that easily, Mister Potter,” Sirius said in his best _adult_ voice, though Harry could already hear it beginning to quiver a little as he tried to keep from laughing. Harry arched a brow, and trailed his hand very slowly down his front.

“That's Mister Potter- _Black_ to you,” Harry corrected, and he could not help but grin at the way Sirius beamed at him at that.

“You're much more evil than I ever suspected,” Sirius muttered as he drew Harry in for a kiss. He abandoned his plan to tease Sirius by meeting the kiss enthusiastically, and a tiny, blissful sigh escaped past his lips as he tried to draw it out a little bit longer.

“As lovely a kisser as you are,” Sirius purred against Harry's mouth, “we really should get up. I've got a full day planned for us, but first...breakfast!”

Sirius lifted his wand, and with a short flick he summoned a silver platter with a hand bell over top, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he set the platter, which was warm, but not hot, across his bare thighs. Sirius removed the bell with a flourish, and inside was a platter of fancy, lacy crepes, stuffed with lemon cream and some sort of berry preserve, as well as two mimosas in champagne flutes.

“You are _ridiculous,_ ” Harry said with a short laugh, “I'm assuming you didn't cook? This looks amazing.” He went for the mimosas first, and handed one to Sirius before picking his own up, and they clinked the edges of their glasses together lightly before Harry arched up for another kiss.

“Happy Anniversary,” Harry said, and felt himself flush a little when Sirius beamed at him.

They shared the plate of crepes and sipped on their drinks, wherein at least a third of it wound up on the bedspread as the pair tried to offer tidbits to each other. It was great fun, and continued as they reluctantly got out of bed to prepare for the day ahead.

Sirius hung back, offering to let Harry shower first, but Harry took both of Sirius's hands in his with a mischievous grin, and he dragged him to the bathroom.

As they showered together, most of it consisted of Sirius 'conveniently' dropping something and Harry having to bend over to pick it up, which always resulted in a pair of large hands cupping his arse in the most delightful way. When he wasn't causing such minor mischief, he was pinning Harry to the tiled wall of the shower, and snogging him senseless, instead of actually washing up in any capacity.

The pair left the shower close to an hour later, wrinkly as a pair of prunes, but smiling as they dressed and headed out the door hand-in-hand.

They walked in comfortable silence, only the gentle sounds of the woodland animals to keep them company as they would their way down the path from their front door to the street. When they reached the edge of their property Harry was in for a surprise, as the item Sirius withdrew from his pocket was not an International Portkey—which was distinctive in the fact that it was usually a tacky souvenir of some kind—this one was clearly local.

Harry looked up at Sirius, his brow knitted in confusion. It was a little nondescript datebook in his hand, and that in itself was odd, and not at all on par with the ridiculous romantic gestures that he'd come to expect at his birthday or their anniversary.

“Come on, Harry,” Sirius teased, and shook the datebook lightly, “it won't bite.”

“Very funny,” Harry replied, and reached out to touch the Portkey.

Immediately Harry felt the telltale sensation of a hook behind his navel, and he and Sirius were whisked off, landing mere seconds later on a cobbled street.

Harry, who still struggled with staying upright at the end of a Portkey trip, was saved from falling by Sirius catching him. At the same moment he took a quick look around, and he was overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu as he realized where they were.

“ _Natura_...” Harry said, reading the Botanical Gardens' sign, “our first date.”

“First time you didn't spend the whole date looking completely miserable about our impending nuptials,” Sirius added, and Harry couldn't help but laugh.

“If I'd known how it would turn out, I probably would have been much less of a sour puss,” Harry remarked, and turned in Sirius's arms to kiss him.

Sirius was smiling at him, positively brimming with happiness, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, he was certain that he could see a tear in the older man's eye. His arms tensed around his young husband, and he pulled Harry in for one last kiss.

“C'mon,” Sirius said with a slightly hoarse tone of voice, “let's go.”

Harry took his hand, and with a wide grin plastered across his face, he hastened to follow.


	2. Tripping at the Finish Line

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be December 19th.

Chapter Two – Tripping at the Finish Line 

  
**8th April, 2008**

The Gardens were exactly how Harry had remembered them.

Unlike the last two times he'd visited them with Sirius however, this time he felt none of the old anxiety that came with being with Sirius in a romantic or sexual way.

He held his husband's hand as they meandered through the winding paths, pausing here and there to observe the newer attractions, such as the Snapdragon petting zoo, where children were happily offering chunks of meat to the red blooms, while nearby parents looked on. Harry did not miss the look of longing that crossed Sirius's face as he watched them, a small, wistful smile accompanying the expression as one child giggled and poked its finger into the mouth of one of the buds, and let out a high wail when the plant responded by biting him. Sirius did not say a word, and Harry wrapped an arm around his waist as though in apology as they moved on.

They passed the dogwood blooms, they all yipping and barking at anyone who got too close, and Harry was highly amused when they seemed to fixate on Sirius. They growled and snapped at the hems of his robes, and they walked away from the area with Sirius's expensive black clothes dusted lightly with yellow pollen.

Some of the excitement began to wane as they continued on with their day, and it was replaced by a peaceful calm as they wove into the _Non-Magical Plants_ area of the Gardens, and they staggered to a stop near the Edelweiss blooms. The sight of the little star-shaped flowers brought a bitter smile to Harry's face, and before he could stop himself, he began to hum to himself.

“What are you humming?” Sirius asked almost at once, and Harry turned to him, his face flushing pink in embarrassment at being caught.

“Oh, er, it's an old muggle song from a film, I remember hearing it through...well, through my cupboard door at Christmas. I always liked it.”

Sirius's arm tensed around Harry at the mention of his cupboard, and he shifted to wrap his other arm around Harry's waist as he stood at his back and perched his head on his shoulder.

“How does it go?”

“Er... _Edelweiss, Edelweiss, every morning you greet me,_  
 _Soft and white, clean and bright,_  
 _Bless my homeland forever..._ ”

Harry stuttered to a stop, and felt his face get even warmer, “er, I don't remember any more,” he said awkwardly. The memory sparked in him a strange mix of bitter feelings and warmth as he leant back into Sirius's embrace, and he felt some of the pain begin to ebb.

“Did I bring back bad memories?” Sirius asked, his tone dropping in volume as concern laced his voice, and his arms tensed around Harry.

“No,” Harry replied as he rested his hands over Sirius's reassuringly, “bad memories sneak up on me sometimes when I least expect it. It wasn't you.”

“Come on,” Sirius said with a light peck to the hollow of Harry's throat, “let's go.”

Harry cast one last glance towards the little buds, then turned to follow his husband's lead down the winding path.

  
The couple spent the rest of the day in the Gardens, pausing in the Arboretum around noon for lunch, before in the early evening Sirius dragged them back home to change for dinner. Considering the would-be _blast from the past_ of the Gardens, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that he knew where Sirius had intended to take him, and was therefore unsurprised when they arrived by Apparition to the restaurant where they'd had The First Meeting following the beginning of the courtship.

“Going all-out with the nostalgia this year, are you?” Harry teased, and got up on his toes to kiss Sirius's stubbly cheek. The older man grinned and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, a vague look of relief in his eyes as he led Harry up to the doors of the restaurant.

“As rocky a start as we had, thinking back on it is good memories for me now,” Sirius explained softly after he offered his name to the host, and they were led to a booth near the back of the restaurant. It was not a private room like they'd been in the first time they'd been there with Hermione and Andromeda, but it still offered enough privacy that they did not feel as though they were being gawked at, either. As they settled down in their seats, a bottle of red wine and two glasses materialized on the table ,and like last time, the glasses automatically began to fill.

“Me too,” Harry answered at once, and laughed a little at Sirius's dubious look. “Well, all right, not as quickly as you,” he added, and extended his foot to hook it around Sirius's ankle as he spoke, “but I still...well, I've just been mostly grateful it was you. I kind of can't imagine going back to how things used to be, and if I had to the opportunity to change things, I don't think I'd want to, either.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, and Harry glanced up to his husband. His eyes were wide and shining, caught between surprise and hope at Harry's admission, and he did not hesitate to reach across the table and take Sirius's hand. Their fingers laced together without hesitation, and Harry offered the older man's hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, really.”

  
The pair fell into casual conversation, discussing everything from Sirius's motorbike garage to what they had seen at the Gardens that day, along with Harry's writing project, which he'd slowly been opening up to Sirius about over the years, and despite how personal it still was to him, it felt good to share it with someone.

“I'm about finished the first year of Hogwarts,” Harry explained, gesturing with his fork between bites of cheese soufflé, “I just dunno what to call the segment, Hermione's all about giving titles to everything, so I figure I should call it _something_.”

“That's the year you, Ron, and Hermione broke about a hundred and fifty school rules into pieces and went after Quirrell, right?”

“Bit rich coming from you,” Harry replied with a small snort, and Sirius smirked. “But yeah, that's the one.”

“How about, _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_?” Sirius asked, and laughed when Harry flushed a deep red.

“I'd rather not pull a _Lockhart_ if I can help it, thanks,” he replied, and Sirius laughed once more before they shifted topics again.

  
Their pleasant meal wound to a close, and over a shared slice of _Chocolate Death_ —a towering slice of three-layer chocolate cake dredged in chocolate fudge sauce and chocolate crème, they exchanged their anniversary gifts.

Harry resized the box he'd had stowed in his pocket, and passed it over nervously, just as Sirius did the same with a much smaller box wrapped in gold paper. They both paused with the boxes in their hands, then laughed as an awkward silence fell.

“Well, go on,” Harry urged, “you first.”

Sirius offered Harry one of his trademark charming smiles, and broke the spellotape tabs on the cardboard box before he opened it. His eyes widened a little as he extracted the new leather jacket, and brushed his fingers over the material lightly.

“Harry...it's...it's _gorgeous_...” he leant across the table and kissed him lightly, “thank you.”

Harry opened his mouth to add that Hermione had helped him pick it out, but at the last moment decided against it, and instead settled for a small smile. Sirius shrugged it on, and though it looked a little awkward over a set of dress robes, Harry was pleased to see that it still looked amazing on him.

“Now you,” Sirius said with a gentle nudge, interrupting Harry's staring. He nodded and dropped his gaze to the box in his hands, and tore away the shiny paper and opened the box to reveal a pair of new leather fingerless gloves for flying. Harry smiled indulgently, and leant across to kiss Sirius in return.

“Thanks,” he said with a small smile, “they're a much more... _useful_ gift than I was expecting.”

“What were you expecting?”

“With you, I find I never know what to expect,” Harry admitted, “but you tend to lean towards the romantic, so...it's a bit of a surprise. Nice surprise, though.”

“Don't think this is the last thing I have for you, Mister Potter-Black,” Sirius teased as he arched a suggestive brow at Harry. “My _other_ gift for you...let's just say it'd be inappropriate to have you open it in a posh restaurant.”

“Hmm...sounds like great minds think alike, then...” Harry arched a suggestive brow of his own, and grinned at the surprised look that crossed Sirius's face.

“What did you get me?” Sirius blurted out, and Harry's grin only widened.

“You'll see,” he replied cryptically, and immediately began to laugh when Sirius threw his arm in the air to flag down a waiter for their cheque.

~*~

The moment they got home, their gifts tucked under their arms, Sirius dragged Harry into a kiss, one which Harry was all too happy to return.

The older man tossed aside his new jacket, and pried the little box from Harry's grasp with one hand, while he used the other to drop down and give his bum a good squeeze. Harry laughed into the kiss, and made a grab for Sirius's upper arms.

“C'mon,” Harry whispered, his voice more than a little hoarse as he tugged on Sirius's arms, “bedroom.”

Sirius's expression brightened, and the pair of them scampered down the hall like a pair of hormone-fuelled teenagers. The moment they crossed the threshold and into the bedroom, Harry all but jumped on Sirius again, and captured his mouth in a hard kiss.

“I couldn't let our third anniversary go by without taking advantage of the material tradition,” Harry purred, and Sirius smirked, as though he, too, was thinking the same thing.

Harry kissed him again, and immediately reached for the buttons trailing down the front of Sirius's robes.

Sirius seemed to shiver in anticipation as Harry's fingers, much more practised in the last few years, thumbed open the buttons one by one. He then slipped his hands underneath the robe, and pushed it off of Sirius's broad shoulders.

The older man allowed the garment to fall, and then returned the gesture for Harry, stripping him of his outer robe, leaving them both in a set of trousers and nothing else, as they had both opted out of upper garments for their fancy dinner.

Harry hooked his fingers in the beltloops of Sirius's trousers and tugged him forward until the pair of them tumbled down onto the bed, when Sirius drew him close and kissed him again. It was more tender than before, but still as passionate and all-encompassing as their earlier kisses had been. Harry kissed Sirius back just as enthusiastically while a hand reached up to thread through the older man's immaculately maintained locks, his heart fluttering in his chest as he returned the kiss.

In between kisses, they shed the last remnants of their clothes—boots, trousers, socks, and pants, and shifted further up the bed until they were perched in the very centre.

“Before we get too far, I want you to have your gift,” Harry breathed, and he felt Sirius's mouth stretch into a smirk as he leant in for another kiss.

“I was thinking the _same_ thing.”

Both men pulled back reluctantly, and went for their night tables at the same time. Harry paused, his hand hovering over the drawer, to look over and see Sirius doing the _exact_ same thing. The older man snorted, while Harry continued to smile indulgently as he went back to pulling out the gift from its hiding spot. As he did so, a tendril of nervousness began to seep in to his mind. Given that their sex practices were fairly tame, it was a bit on the risqué side, and there was a _slight_ chance that Sirius would not appreciate it, but after seeing it in the shop, Harry simply _couldn't_ pass it up.

His hands shaking a little, he withdrew the narrow silver-wrapped box and handed it to Sirius, while he, with a similar look of nervousness, handed over a similarly sized box, though it was a little thicker than Harry's was.

“On the count of three, yeah?” Harry asked, and Sirius nodded.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Okay, one, two... _three_!”

At the same time, both Sirius and Harry tore into the gifts. In his, Harry found a set of leather handcuffs, and at the same moment, he heard Sirius bark out a loud, raucous laugh.

“Oh, Harry, you _didn't_!”

Harry turned, a wide grin on his face, to see Sirius holding up a leather dog's collar, with Sirius's name in silver block letters written across it. It was narrow, about an inch wide, with a silver buckle on the side, and Sirius's eyes were sparkling with mirth as he admired it.

“I can't believe you actually went into a shop and _bought_ this...” Sirius said as Harry set aside his own gift and shifted closer to his husband, and plucked the accessory from his hands.

“Here,” Harry said, “let me help you put it on...”

Both of them still giggling like a pair of children, Harry climbed into Sirius's lap and plucked the collar from his hands. Sirius held back his hair while Harry wrapped the strap of leather around his throat and buckled it into place, turning and adjusting it until Sirius's name rested across his throat neatly.

Harry couldn't help but marvel at how _good_ Sirius looked in it, and he unconsciously licked his lips at the sight. Sirius smirked, and rested a knuckle under Harry's chin, tilting his head up to kiss him lightly.

“Role reversal tonight?” Sirius offered, “am I your... _puppy_?”

“That sounds so strange and hot all at once,” Harry replied, and returned the kiss.

“Role-playing usually is,” Sirius said, and picked up the handcuffs, and arched a brow at Harry.

“You _really_ want me to take control tonight?”

“Only if you want to. It's been a _very_ long time since I was in a more submissive role...”

“How long?”

“A lady never kisses and tells, Harry,” Sirius teased, and with a laugh, Harry accepted the handcuffs.

Harry pressed a hand to the centre of Sirius's chest, and he willingly laid back on the bed, offering up his wrists to Harry as he wound the short chain through the slats in the bed's headboard before he affixed them to Sirius's wrists.

Sirius gazed up at him, his eyes glittering with unabashed trust, and Harry felt momentarily overwhelmed with excitement and nervousness all at once.

“I think safewords are usually a thing one would use in this situation...right?” Harry asked as he reached out to trace the exposed skin around the collar, and Sirius shivered a little.

“It's not like we've broken out the floggers or anything,” Sirius pointed out, and fidgeted underneath Harry. He chuckled at the older man's statement, and leant in to kiss him lightly.

“Humour me.”

“Fine, how about... _shamble-bobble-dibble-dooble?”_

“Bit long.”

“ _Jiggery pokery_?”

“Fine then, _Jiggery pokery_ ,” Harry replied with a small laugh, and then bowed forward to kiss him again.

The chains of the handcuffs clinked audibly, giving the impression that Sirius was fidgeting and trying to reach for Harry. Harry grinned and nipped at the older man's bottom lip.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he teased, “you're _mine_ tonight, and you don't get any touch until I say so.”

“Hmm, I like it when you're forceful,” Sirius purred, and Harry felt his face flush scarlet. He wasn't used to being in control where their bedroom activities were concerned, and he found himself caught between the thrill of it all, and a near-dizzying nervousness all at once. Sirius caught on to this feeling immediately, and his expression shifted from flirtatious to concerned. “Harry, are you all right? Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Harry replied at once, “ _God_ , no. I just...I've never been on _top_ before, so to speak.”

“Just relax,” Sirius encouraged, and smiled up warmly at his husband, “do what you like, what feels natural.”

“I wish I knew what that _was_...”

“Start slow,” Sirius said gently, “come on, kiss me.”

Sirius fidgeted, and Harry's gaze was drawn to the handcuffs. His face more than a little red, he bowed forward to kiss Sirius.

Sirius was lax, not non-responsive, but apparently quite content to pass over the lead to Harry without complaint. Harry floundered, a little uncertain what to do, but after a moment he seemed to find his footing, and he reached out as he kissed Sirius to close his hands over Sirius's bound wrists, and the older man immediately let out a moan of deep arousal.

“Enjoying yourself?” Harry purred, and Sirius chuckled.

“ _Very_ much,” Sirius replied, and arched up a little to kiss him again. “You?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered and felt himself flush a little at the breathless quality of his voice. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth to stop himself from grinning too broadly, and Sirius chuckled.

“You're adorable when you do that, you know,” he remarked, and Harry blinked down at him.

“When I do what?”

“Get all flustered like that.”

Harry had no idea what to say in response, and chose instead to kiss Sirius, while one of his hands trailed down his front and to his flagging cock, which was pressing quite insistently into his lower stomach. Sirius broke the kiss when Harry's fingers brushed over the sensitive organ, and he let out a plaintive groan as he arched his hips, pressing his cock more firmly into Harry's hand.

“Someone's a bit excited,” Harry murmured, and gave the cock in his hand a small squeeze, which caused Sirius to whimper, and fidget in his bindings.

“Harry, if you tease me...”

“What?” Harry asked, and arched a brow at him.

“I'll—I'll...make dinner for you.”

“You'd poison me because I teased you?”

“Maybe not _poison_ , my cooking skills aren't _that_ bad...”

“It seems that you've conveniently forgotten the _grape jelly in a blackened omelette_ disaster...”

“Hey, that was edible!”

“Edible food is not black and sickly green, Sirius.”

“As they say, don't knock it 'til you've tried it,” Sirius countered, and Harry offered him a grin.

“Sort of like this...?” he emphasized his point by trailing the fingertips of his free hand along the edges of the collar that Sirius still wore, and he was gifted with another delicious shiver.

“Sort of, yeah...” Sirius replied, his voice suddenly rather hoarse as he looked up at Harry.

Harry found himself mildly overwhelmed by the look he saw reflected back at him in those grey eyes. They were softer, more tender than they had been earlier in the evening, and they were flooded with an overwhelming look of trust and devotion.

Harry bit his lip again, and leant in to kiss Sirius, and smiled inwardly when he felt, rather than heard, Sirius's low moan of longing. Harry continued to kiss him while one of his hands dropped to Sirius's cock, and began to idly stroke it.

Sirius arched his hips weakly, and his bindings clinked again as he squirmed beneath his husband.

“Harry...” he whimpered, “please...”

“Please what?” Harry teased, and Sirius let out another whine.

“Fuck me, let me fuck you, _something_. I don't care, just stop _teasing_ me!”

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the full-blown desperation in Sirius's tone, and he leant down to nip at Sirius's bottom lip once, while he reached for the night table to grab the lubricant.

“Sirius, have you ever heard the phrase... _save a horse, ride an Animagus_?”

Harry grinned when the older man let out another moan of longing, and he jerked his hips in a silent plea. He was all too happy to oblige him, but instead of immediately going for it, he backed off of Sirius, and perched at the end of the bed.

Sirius's eyes flew open, and he looked at Harry with confusion.

“Harry, what—?”

“—keep your eyes on me, Sirius,” Harry interrupted, his tone just short of commanding. “I mean it. Close your eyes and I'll leave you here like this and sleep in the guest room.”

Sirius nodded, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watched, enamoured, while Harry coated two fingers with the lubricant, then adjusted his position to give Sirius a good view, and promptly slid one finger into his hole.

Harry shuddered at the exquisite feeling, and let out a soft groan as he speared himself. The sensation was further heightened by Sirius intently watching his every move, and he grinned at his husband, who looked both terribly ridiculous and terribly sexy in the collar Harry had gotten for him at the same time.

Harry added a second finger, and scissored himself for the briefest of moments before he removed the digits, spelled them clean, and just barely managed to bite back a laugh when he heard Sirius's soft whine at the loss of the show. He paused, and smirked down at Sirius as he bowed forward to kiss him tenderly.

“Good things come to those who wait,” Harry murmured, and Sirius snorted a little.

“Yeah, well, you know what else is coming?”

“What?”

“ _Christmas_. Hurry up!”

Figuring he should have expected such a sarcastic remark after taunting him for so long, Harry laughed before he kissed Sirius once in an effort to shut him up, then pulled back a little to slick Sirius's cock with the lubricant before he straddled the older man's hips. Harry positioned himself carefully, then ever so slowly he sank down onto Sirius's flagging cock.

“ _Oh, thank Morrigan_ ,” Sirius hissed as he arched into Harry's arse, while Harry bit back a small laugh. When Sirius invoked his Gods, Harry knew that he'd done a good job.

“Good?” Harry asked, and watched as Sirius fidgeted in his bindings, as though he'd forgotten they were there, and he slumped down against the mattress in joyous defeat.

“ _Very_ good,” Sirius replied, “I love you, Harry.”

Harry swallowed a curse.

Did he have to say that _now_?

Despite evidence to the contrary, Harry could all but see his erection wilting at the ill-timed phrase. In an effort to distract himself from his own guilt, he began to rock his hips, lifting himself up, then dropping himself down on Sirius's cock, and the sweet sensation helped to numb his thoughts as he sought to bring Sirius to orgasm.

The older man's forehead was beaded with sweat, and his was panting raggedly, the chains from the leather cuffs clinking almost continuously as he arched into Harry, and the silvery letters of the collar seemed to glint in the low light of the rising moon.

Harry clenched around him, and with a soft groan Sirius found his release. Harry rode it out while he closed his hand around his own cock, and came all over Sirius's stomach.

Harry sat there, panting hard, and when he felt Sirius's cock begin to soften, he got off of him and grabbed his wand. He used it to clean up their respective messes, then finally released Sirius from his bindings. Sirius took immediate advantage of his mobility to draw Harry close, and spooned around him while he peppered the back of Harry's shoulders with light, lazy kisses.

“That was brilliant, Harry—you were _brilliant_.”

The whispered words carried a note of regret to them. Harry rolled over in the embrace just as Sirius tugged the duvet over the pair of them, and he brushed Harry's lips with a light kiss.

“I'm sorry, by the way,” he murmured while he stroked Harry's hair lightly.

“Sorry for what?”

“You know what. I shouldn't have said that, not when I know that you don't—” Sirius broke off with a heavy sigh.

Harry stared at him in the semidarkness, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips as he regarded the older man.

True, he didn't feel the same—not yet, anyway—and though he felt deep affection for Sirius, it still wasn't what Harry considered to be _love_.

“I don't like it when you say it,” Harry began, and winced at the hurt look that crossed Sirius's face. “I just...I don't hate you, or dislike you. I care for you—a _lot_ , but...I don't love you. It feels like it would be a lie to say it just 'cause you said it, you know? And when you say it...I know you mean well, but...you make me feel bad that I can't say it back.”

Sirius looked positively heartbroken at Harry's explanation, and Harry felt his stomach turn over guiltily. In an effort to do some damage control he shifted closer, cradled Sirius's face in his hands, and kissed him tenderly. His whole body seemed to tingle in response to the kiss, especially after Sirius began to kiss him back.

“This wasn't the perfect end to our anniversary day that I was picturing,” Sirius murmured, and Harry smiled weakly in response.

“I know, just forget it,” he said as he stroked Sirius's prickly, faintly lined cheek. “You and I are both excellent with the Foot In Mouth disease thing.”

“You're not wrong on that one,” Sirius said with a chuckle, and tugged Harry closer. “Come on, let's get some sleep.”

Nodding, Harry snuggled into the warm embrace, and despite Sirius and Harry's respective albeit accidental mood-killers, Harry felt himself relaxing nonetheless, and slowly he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The song/film Harry is referring to is _Edelweiss_ from _The Sound of Music_


	3. Discord

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Due to internet issues, I'll be moving my update days to Sundays. That said, with Saturnalia coming up, the next update will be after the holidays, Sunday, January 7th. Merry Christmakkuh!

Chapter Three – Discord

 

**13 th April, 2008**

 

In the days following their anniversary, life in the Potter-Black household slowly went back to normal. Sirius went off to work at his shop, and Harry stayed home to keep house.

Most surprisingly, Harry did not find the act of cooking and cleaning to be at all emasculating (despite Ron's lighthearted teasing about him being Sirius's _housewife_ ) and Harry found himself enjoying the simple tasks of washing up, tending to the gardens, and cooking the meals that he and Sirius shared. It was certainly not the glamorous, high-risk, and exciting job that Harry had once envisioned for himself, but as time went on, Harry was beginning to realize that it was no bad thing to enjoy a simple, peaceful life.

The small household tasks did not occupy all of Harry's time, especially in the spring when everything was beginning to bloom, and Harry did not need to worry about preserving food for winter. To fill his time, he began to teach Teddy to fly, which was both a relief to Andromeda, who had an aversion to heights, and a bit of a headache for Harry, as Teddy hadn't quite mastered the art of holding onto his broom yet, and thus he spent half the time running underneath the boy, ready to cast yet another cushioning charm to stop Teddy from falling and killing himself.

That was, until Harry noticed that it was not Teddy being somewhat inept at flying, but the little bugger was doing it on _purpose_.

Harry watched with a small frown on his face as Teddy flew as high as the broom would allow (charmed to go no higher than thirty feet, just in case), rolled upside down, and he let go.

“ _Wheeee!_ ” Teddy laughed all the way down, and at the fifteen-foot mark his eyes fell on Harry, and he blanched when he noticed that Harry had not lifted his wand to cast the cushioning charm, but was watching his progression with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Very quickly his giggles of delight shifted to a horrified scream, and at the last possible second Harry whipped his wand out and cast the necessary charm, stopping the boy just short of cracking his skull open in Andromeda's prized bed of roses.

“Uncle Harry!” he yelled as he sat up, still shaking a little. “That wasn't funny!”

“It wasn't _supposed_ to be funny, Ted,” Harry snapped as he crossed the garden and hefted him to his feet. “If you're just gonna muck about during these lessons, I won't bother teaching you. What if I missed when casting the cushioning charm, eh? You can't go to Hogwarts if your brains are scattered in your Gran's garden and not in your head.”

“You wouldn't've missed,” Teddy countered sullenly, “that was really mean, Uncle Harry.”

“You can mess about after you've properly learned how to fly,” Harry countered, which only made Teddy's sour look worse.

“You're no fun anymore,” Teddy replied with a pout, “where's Uncle Sirius?”

“He's at his shop, you know that,” Harry replied, and fought the urge to roll his eyes at Teddy's attitude. _When did I become the no-fun uncle?_

“Can't Uncle Sirius give me these lessons?”

“No, because he's at his shop,” Harry repeated, and gritted his teeth in annoyance. “You _asked_ me to teach you, remember? But if you don't want me to, I don't have to, you know.”

Teddy poked out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, and once again Harry struggled with the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh, I give up. Fine, lesson's over for today, go on and play,” Harry replied with an annoyed huff. Immediately, Teddy broke out into a wide smile.

“Yay, I win.”

With another grin he hurried off, while Harry watched him head back inside, his thick violet hair fluttering in the breeze as he went.

“Have a fun lesson?” Andromeda asked as she stepped outside, and based on her amused smile, Harry had to assume that she had heard the whole argument.

“When did I become No Fun Harry? He always starts asking for Sirius whenever I scold him,” Harry whined as he gathered up Teddy's broomstick as well as his own with a heavy sigh, and turned to Andromeda, who was smiling at him sadly.

“Dora did the same thing with us when she was about his age,” Andromeda said, “if she was being scolded by one of us, she'd ask for the other parent. It was her favourite diversionary tactic for avoiding getting in trouble. Though I will say that when it comes to minding Teddy, Sirius is a bit more...”

“...fun?”

“Well, yes,” Andromeda paused and laughed a little when Harry frowned. “But at the moment when you come by it's to give Teddy his flying lessons, so it's to be expected that you're a little more stern with him than usual. It's not a bad thing, Harry.”

“And yet somehow Teddy can make me feel like an ogre for it...” Harry muttered, and Andromeda smiled at him.

“The gift of children is that they to eat our food and break our hearts. They're not supposed to be grateful for all we do for them.”

“Is it weird that I find that somewhat comforting?” Harry asked, and Andromeda offered him a warm, knowing smile.

“Come inside for some lunch, and maybe I can convince my dear grandson to behave himself during his afternoon lessons...”

“Bribe him with my husband, since he keeps asking for him,” Harry teased, and Andromeda laughed lightly.

“I might just do that, Harry.”

 

~*~

 

Harry wound up staying so long with he and Andromeda trying—and failing—to get Teddy to cooperate for his lessons that Andromeda invited him to dinner, and Sirius by extension.

After sending off an owl to Sirius, telling him to come to Andromeda's after work instead of home, Harry made himself useful by helping Andromeda peel potatoes and chop onions while she skinned a pair of rabbits for stew.

Teddy was 'helping' by setting the table, but did such a bad job of it that he had to be called back twice to fix it—first, he had dumped everything—cutlery, plates, place mats, and goblets in the centre of the table in a heap before darting off, and the second time he shoved all the place settings in the right spots around the table, but again in a jumbled heap, and not set out nicely.

The result was a firm scolding from Andromeda that Harry felt very strange about overhearing.

“Now, I do not know what has caused this charming mood of yours, young man, but you smarten yourself up this instant, or I shall send an owl to Sirius and tell him to go straight home, do you understand me?”

“But Gran—!” Teddy protested in a whine, but Andromeda cut across him before he could finish.

“I do _not_ want to hear it. Enough is enough. Now you behave yourself, or else.”

Andromeda tramped back into the kitchen a few minutes later, still apparently in a foul mood, and returned to skinning the rabbits.

“I'm sorry you had to hear that, Harry,” Andromeda said stiffly a few minutes later as she discarded the skins and began to bone the meat. “But sometimes...”

“No, I get it,” Harry interrupted with a small smile. “Sometimes kids need to be punished, and he's been a bit of a brat all day. It's not like he didn't have it coming.”

“Well, that makes a nice change,” she replied with a faint smile. “Sirius always has a complaint or two when he hears me reprimanding Teddy, although if that boy was ever scolded as a child I would be amazed. Had it not been for Remus and your father, it isn't much of a stretch to assume that he would have turned out just like young Mr Malfoy.”

“Was he _that_ spoiled growing up?” Harry asked, and Andromeda chuckled a little.

“I wouldn't say _spoiled_ , especially after he began to deviate from his parents' values, but before that he was always complimented on his looks, and how important he was, being the firstborn Black of Orion and Walburgia, and so for a time he had quite the inflated view of himself. I believe it was Remus's influence, more than anything else, that eventually helped him to learn some sort of humility.”

“Remus, really?” Harry asked, “not my dad?”

“Well, your father was a bit...he thought very highly of himself,” Andromeda laughed a little, but when she caught Harry's frown, she rushed forward. “Oh, Harry, he was never a bad person, just a little arrogant. Being friends with Remus, and his involvement with your mother it certainly helped to curb his self-involved tendencies, and the same was true for your dear husband, albeit the reverse.”

“Sirius and Remus were...involved?”

“Has Sirius ever spoke on his relationship with Remus to you?” she asked, and immediately Harry shook his head. Andromeda cast a quick glance towards the sitting room where Teddy was playing, then back to Harry. He raised his eyebrows, uncertain what the look meant, but when Andromeda next spoke, Harry understood.

“Whatever you do, Harry, I would highly suggest you _not_ ask Sirius about it,” she said in a low tone close to a whisper.

“What? Why?”

“Their relationship was and still is something that Sirius deeply treasures,” Andromeda said with a note of anguish in her tone. “Don't misunderstand me, he loves and adores you, but Remus...Sirius blames himself for losing Remus, and to him it was very much a slap in the face when he and my daughter got married and had Teddy. That was part of why Remus named you godfather, not him. He first lost Remus during their fifth year, when Sirius chose to play that prank on Severus, then after Azkaban they were on their way to fixing things when they had a row that shattered any hope they had had of rekindling their relationship. I've no idea what the row entailed, he never told me, but Sirius pushed Remus away, and straight into Dora's arms.

“I always had mixed feelings about the whole ordeal, but what I _do_ know is that no one person is to blame for what occurred. It was something of a domino effect, and after You-Know-Who was defeated, Sirius mourned Remus's passing for a very long time. I believe part of why he's so lenient with Teddy is out of guilt for what befell Remus and Dora...” Andromeda trailed off as the front door opened, and they heard Teddy's cry of delight—Sirius was here. “Remember, Harry, not a word. He doesn't like talking about Remus, in particular, his relationship with Remus, with anyone. I do not know if that includes you, but I think it might be safer to keep it to yourself, all right?”

Harry wasn't so keen on the ideas of secrets between himself and his husband, but he nodded anyway, just as Sirius burst into the kitchen with Teddy on his back, his hands and face still streaked with grease and oil from the shop.

“Smell that, Teddy?” Sirius proclaimed loudly, “your gran and your uncle are whipping up a masterpiece, and us lazy louts aren't allowed to help!”

“That's because we're cooking dinner, not concocting a vat of poison,” Harry teased, “Teddy can help all he wants, though.”

“I already helped!” Teddy complained from Sirius's shoulders, “I set the table, remember?”

“And a fine job you did,” Sirius added as he set Teddy down and turned to him, his arms crossed and a warm smile on his face. “So, how many times did your gran need to drag you back in to do it properly this time?”

Teddy's face turned a deep red, and his eyes dropped to his feet. He mumbled to himself, but not loudly enough for anyone to hear.

“What was that, Ted?” Sirius asked in a sugary-sweet tone of voice that he reserved just for Teddy. “I believe I heard you say that you were a _perfect angel_ for my wonderful husband and your gran, my dearest Harry, who took time out of his busy schedule to teach you to fly, and you know how stressful it can be, making sure you're safe and not hurting yourself while he teaches you, because he just _loves_ you to pieces, and it just breaks his heart when you're mean to him, and then he stays to help your poor gran make dinner so that you don't starve to death...so you were good for them, _right?_ ”

Teddy's answer was a soft sniffle.

“Something you wanna say, Ted?” Sirius asked kindly, and Teddy shook his head, just as he sniffled again.

“N-No, 'm fine...” he mumbled, and rubbed at his eyes.

“Are you sure about that?” Sirius asked, and cocked a brow at Teddy. The little boy looked up, his face screwed up in his Trying Not To Cry face, and he turned to his Grandmother and Harry, his cheeks puffed outward like a greedy chipmunk.

“I'm sorry!” Teddy cried, but before either Harry or Andromeda could say, _for what_ , and wheedle a proper apology from him, he spun on his heel and ran off.

Or he tried to, but Sirius was too fast for him.

Teddy was barely out of the kitchen when Sirius's arm shot out and he grabbed the collar of Teddy's shirt, stopping his getaway with an audible strangled yelp.

“Hold it, young man,” Sirius said, still using that lighthearted tone of his as he shifted his grip to Teddy's shoulder and dragged him back into the kitchen. “What exactly are you sorry for? Did you upset my precious, wonderful, dear Harry?” Sirius made a few choked, anguished sounds that made Teddy balk and Harry roll his eyes.

Sirius let go of Teddy and moved over to Harry, and just as the thought, _oh boy, here we go..._ passed through Harry's mind, Sirius grabbed hold of his young husband with an overdramatic wail, and tugged him into a crushing embrace.

“Oh, Harry, don't cry!” Sirius said tearfully, “I know Teddy is pants at apologizing for things, but please, don't be cross with him! He's just a tiny little boy!”

“Sirius, let me go!” Harry protested between laughs as he pressed his hands against his chest, “you're getting engine grease all over me!”

“Oh, sweet Harry!” Sirius cried, completely ignoring Harry's protests, “do not despair, I know that Teddy can be a mean little berk, but he didn't mean it, I swear!”

The atmosphere was utterly ruined, with Teddy flat on his back as he howled with laughter, Andromeda at the cooker with a hand over her mouth and her face very red, while Harry continued to squirm in Sirius's vice-like hold as he lamented over the sheer _cruelty_ of Teddy's treatment of his godfather.

“Teddy,” Harry croaked, “please hurry up and apologize, your uncle's crushing my lungs.”

At last, Teddy got back up, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, and he smiled weakly at his Gran and at Harry.

“I'm sorry for messing about during my lessons, Uncle Harry,” Teddy said, “and I'm sorry for not setting the table properly, Gran.”

“Good man,” Sirius said approvingly, and smiled at the youngster. “Go on and play.”

Without another word Teddy took off, and Sirius finally let Harry go, offering him an apologetic grin as he pulled out his wand, flicking it a few times to rid Harry's clothes and skin of grease stains.

“I need to learn how you do that,” Harry said as he moved back to his vegetable prep, and Sirius leant against the wall to watch him work.

“How I do what?”

“Get Teddy to listen to you so easily,” Harry explained. “Every time I tried to reprimand him today he's had a smart remark for me, and then you wander in and accomplish in ten minutes what it took me and Andromeda a few _hours_ to do.”

“He's hit his preteen years,” Sirius said with a shrug, “which means he's going to be an obnoxious little twat until his brain rights itself again. You just have to learn to go with it, I suppose. Besides, I like children, you know that, Harry.”

Harry didn't respond immediately, his focus instead on the carrots he was supposed to be chopping. He'd abandoned his wand in favour of doing it by hand, and bit the inside of his cheek as he heard the unspoken sentiment in Sirius's words.

  _I've always wanted kids, Harry._

Harry shifted uneasily; he had a feeling that another discussion about the subject of children and _Potestas_ was not too far off on the horizon.

 

Despite Harry's worries, Sirius made no mention of or hint towards _Potestas_ through dinner. However, this may have been because he was busy trying to convince Teddy that his stew was chicken, not rabbit, who appeared horrified at the idea of eating a fluffy little bunny(barring the fact that he had seen his grandmother skinning them, he seemed to trust Sirius anyway, and ate without much complaint).

After a dessert of apple pie and ice cream (apple pie and cheddar cheese for Teddy) and more than a few glasses of mead, Harry and Sirius were getting ready to go while Andromeda announced it was time for Teddy to go to bed, and with wide, puppy-dog eyes, he turned to Harry and Sirius and asked, “will you read with me tonight?”

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look and mental shrug, then turned back to the little boy.

“Sure, Ted,” Harry replied, “which of us do you want?”

“Both.”

“Both?” Harry asked.

“Both is good,” Sirius replied with a chuckle, and with an arm around Harry, he followed Teddy to his bedroom and played a surprisingly perfect parental role, overseeing him change into his pyjamas, then led him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He returned a few minutes later smelling faintly of peppermint, and the indulgent smile never left Sirius's face as he settled down next to Harry on the little bed, and offered his knee a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“So, what do you want to read, Teddy?” Harry asked, feeling slightly awkward as he spoke. It was hardly the first time he'd read to Teddy or _with_ Teddy, but with Sirius at his side it felt strangely parental, and made his stomach flip-flop uneasily as he watched the little boy wander over to his bookcase, where he selected a kids' chapter-book called, _The Amazing Adventures of Captain Gladys Stout-Pamphlet and Her Intrepid Spaniel, Stieg, Amongst the Giant Pygmies of Bechols, Volume Eight._

“This one,” he announced as he held it up to show the adults, then without pause he climbed onto his bed and wiggled between Sirius and Harry, opened the chapter-book to his bookmark, and began to read aloud.

Teddy had clearly gotten Remus's brains, and read quite eloquently for a ten-year-old. A handful of times Harry or Sirius would lean in to correct his pronunciation, but overall he did quite well on his own, and as the end of the chapter drew near, he began to yawn compulsively, and Sirius gently pried the book from his hands, marking his place and putting it away while Harry took to the task of tucking him in.

“Night, Teddy,” Harry murmured, and the boy smiled at him sleepily before he curled up with a small sigh of contentment, and Harry turned to see Sirius by the door, watching him with a small, knowing smile upon his face.

“What're you smiling at?” Harry whispered as he stepped up to his husband, and shivered with quiet delight when Sirius's arm snaked around his middle.

“You,” Sirius murmured before he pecked his lips lightly. “You're really good with him, Harry.”

“Yeah, when I'm not plotting his murder,” Harry replied softly, and Sirius chuckled warmly as he began to lead him out of the room.

“Let's get going,” he said by way of response, “I imagine that Teddy's not the only one exhausted after the busy day you've had...”

Harry smiled gratefully, and followed Sirius's lead to bid Andromeda goodnight.

 

**29 th April, 2008**

 

Sirius managed to hold out for just over a fortnight before temptation got the better of him, and once more he brought up the dread subject of children.

“Harry,” Sirius began that evening as he set the table for dinner, while Harry levitated the roast pan onto the hot plate in the centre of the table, closely followed by bowls of mushy peas and mashed potatoes, as well as a basket of fresh rolls.

“What?” he asked, but frowned when he saw the hesitant, contemplative expression on Sirius's face. Harry knew that look far too well by now, and as a guarded expression crossed Harry's face, a hesitant one fell into place upon Sirius's.

“I've been thinking,” Sirius began while he picked up the carving knife and began the cut up slices of roast chicken for the two of them, and Harry used his wand to serve up the other food, though he still eyed Sirius uncertainly. “Well, we've been married for just over three years, and things have been good, haven't they?”

“Yeah, they have,” Harry agreed, arching a brow at him in silent question. “Why are you saying this?”

“Well, I just mean, neither of us are getting any younger,” Sirius hedged nervously, “I'm almost—you're pushing thirty, and don't you think it might be time to—?”

“Oh, _oh._ Sirius, I don't know...” Harry replied hastily, he twining his napkin between his fingers nervously as he regarded Sirius. Despite his hopes to avoid the topic of children, the conversation had once again reasserted itself, and like every other time that Sirius had brought it up over the last few years, the prospect of having kids did not fill Harry with any sense of joy or excitement, but a bone-deep fear of the idea of it. “I—I mean, I don't know if I'm ready to be a parent, much less—” Harry broke off and flushed a deep crimson. The idea of taking on certain _attributes_ , so to speak, much less getting _pregnant_ was still more than a little daunting to him.

“Harry,” Sirius said plaintively, his tone edging on a more blunt, almost harsh tone as he continued, “we're going to have to within the next two years anyway,” he said, hurt lacing his words at Harry's rejection. “Don't you think we should consider getting the process started soon? If we start now, it will all be over by the _Potestas_ deadline.”

“Sirius,” Harry said, his own pleading tone of voice vastly different than Sirius's, and shook minutely with his unspoken plea, _please don't make me do this._ “I know you want to, but...” Harry trailed off, and swallowed thickly.

_But I can't bring a child into a virtually loveless marriage; I'm not ready for such a big step; you can't ask me to grow tits for two years,_ Harry thought, but didn't say any of the excuses out loud. He didn't want to hurt Sirius any more than he already had, and many of the protests he'd already heard—it wasn't as though this was the first time that they'd discussed this. His silence spoke volumes, and he watched with a frown as Sirius's expression closed off, and he bowed his head in an effort to hide his anger at Harry's rejection from him, but after three years, Harry caught it easily.

“ _Fine._ ”

Without another word, Sirius slammed down the cutlery he'd been holding, and stormed out.

 


	4. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be out January 21st.

Chapter Four – Discussions

 

**3 rd May, 2008**

 

The warm sunlight pouring over the bedspread and the soft birdsong that bled in through the open window was what woke Harry that Saturday morning, and when he rolled over in the bed, he frowned when he saw that Sirius's side was empty and cold.

_He must've slept on the sofa again..._ Harry thought blearily, and sat up with a soft groan. He frowned at the empty bed as though, it, too, was telling him that it was time to try for a baby.

Harry reached out for the duvet on Sirius's side, and frowned a little as he traced the creases in the woven cotton as he remembered the conversation he'd had with his husband barely four days earlier.

“ _Harry,” Sirius began that evening as he set the table for dinner, while Harry levitated the roast pan onto the hot plate in the centre of the table, closely followed by bowls of mushy peas and mashed potatoes, as well as a basket of fresh rolls._

“ _What?” he asked, but frowned when he saw the hesitant, contemplative expression on Sirius's face. Harry knew that look far too well by now, and as a guarded expression crossed Harry's face, a hesitant one fell into place upon Sirius's._

“ _I've been thinking,” Sirius began while he picked up the carving knife and began the cut up slices of roast chicken for the two of them, and Harry used his wand to serve up the other food, though he still eyed Sirius uncertainly. “Well, we've been married for just over three years, and things have been good, haven't they?”_

“ _Yeah, they have,” Harry agreed, arching a brow at him in silent question. “Why are you saying this?”_

“ _Well, I just mean, neither of us are getting any younger,” Sirius hedged nervously, “I'm almost—you're pushing thirty, and don't you think it might be time to—?”_

“ _Oh,_ oh. _Sirius, I don't know...” Harry replied hastily, he twining his napkin between his fingers nervously as he regarded Sirius. Despite his hopes to avoid the topic of children, the conversation had once again reasserted itself, and like every other time that Sirius had brought it up over the last few years, the prospect of having kids did not fill Harry with any sense of joy or excitement, but a bone-deep fear of the idea of it. “I—I mean, I don't know if I'm ready to be a parent, much less—” Harry broke off and flushed a deep crimson. The idea of taking on certain_ attributes, _so to speak, much less getting_ pregnant _was still more than a little daunting to him._

“ _Harry,” Sirius said plaintively, his tone edging on a more blunt, almost harsh tone as he continued, “we're going to have to within the next two years anyway,” he said, hurt lacing his words at Harry's rejection. “Don't you think we should consider getting the process started soon? If we start now, it will all be over by the_ Potestas _deadline.”_

“ _Sirius,” Harry said, his own pleading tone of voice vastly different than Sirius's, and shook minutely with his unspoken plea,_ please don't make me do this. _“I know you want to, but...” Harry trailed off, and swallowed thickly._

But I can't bring a child into a virtually loveless marriage; I'm not ready for such a big step; you can't ask me to grow tits for two years, _Harry thought, but didn't say any of the excuses out loud. He didn't want to hurt Sirius any more than he already had, and many of the protests he'd already heard—it wasn't as though this was the first time that they'd discussed this. His silence spoke volumes, and he watched with a frown as Sirius's expression closed off, and he bowed his head in an effort to hide his anger at Harry's rejection from him, but after three years, Harry caught it easily._

“ _Fine._ ”

 

Sirius chose to not come to bed that night, nor the nights following.

The older man's childish attitude stung, but Harry couldn't exactly help how he felt, and force himself to change to accommodate Sirius. Harry wanted a family too, he always had, but what was being asked of him physically—two years of his life to produce a child, it was nothing short of terrifying to him.

Harry took his time that morning showering, brushing his teeth, and getting dressed, and by the time he'd wandered into the dining room he found that Sirius had already gone, a serving of slightly charred eggs and toast left out for him under a warming charm, with a short note.

 

_Went to work, see you tonight._

_x_

 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he swallowed a groan of frustration, and tucked into the food that Sirius had left out for him. Sirius _never_ went to work on the weekend, and Harry was certain that he'd actually skulked off to the Leaky to get pissed.

He ate quickly, went out into the back garden to check their fruit and vegetable patches as well as the bird feeders, then after making sure he looked at least partially presentable, he passed outside of the wards, and Disapparated.

 

Harry reappeared just outside of a modest two-storey house, and strode up the walkway without any moment of hesitation to rap sharply on the door.

“Just a moment!” a female voice cried over the sound of an infant screaming bloody murder from the other side of it, and Harry grimaced a little at how upset Hugo sounded

The sound grew louder and louder, and the door opened to show a harassed-looking Hermione, her hair falling out of its neat ponytail, and there were deep dark circles under her eyes. Little Hugo was propped in her arms, little fists flailing as he positively _screamed_.

“Oh, Harry! Come in, is Sirius with you?” she asked at once, and Harry winced at the hopeful note in her voice.

“No, it's just me,” Harry answered over Hugo's cries, “is he all right?”

“Colic,” she answered as she adjusted the baby's position in her arms, and rubbed his back while she cooed at him, “it's no fun for baby _or_ mummy, let me tell you.”

“Er, I overheard Sirius telling Angelina at the last Weasley Dinner that a hot water bottle filled with warm water sometimes helps,” Harry said, his insides squirming uneasily as he spoke, and let himself in. At the suggestion, Hermione did not even wait for Harry to finish kicking off his trainers before she darted off, and a moment later he could hear the water running in the kitchen.

Hugo's screams didn't abate, and when Harry poked his head in uncertainly, he watched Hermione gently rest a hot water bottle against the baby's chest, cooing so softly to him that Harry couldn't pick up her words, and she rocked him gently. Ever so slowly, his cries quieted, and Hermione's entire tense demeanour relaxed.

“Oh thank God,” she whispered, and turned to smile at Harry. “Well, now that I can hear myself think, what brings you by? Not that I mind, but you don't usually drop in like this...or are you and Sirius fighting again?”

“You know, you could probably take over for Trelawney, your predictions are way better than hers,” Harry replied dryly, and she giggled a little.

“It's not premonitions, it's written all over your face,” she said simply, and while she cradled Hugo with one arm, she used the other to flick her wand at the cooker, and steam shot out of the spout of the kettle that rested there. She flicked her wand a few more times to prepare two cups of tea, then levitated them as she said, “come on, tea, and you can tell me what happened.”

Doing his best not to laugh at Hermione's very maternal response, he dutifully followed her into the sitting room, and accepted one of the cups from her.

“So what did you do this time?” Hermione asked teasingly, her tone dropping to a level just above a whisper, given that Hugo had fallen asleep. Across the room in a playpen was little Rose, happily playing with a toy unicorn, and did not pay either adult any mind.

“How d'you know it was me?” Harry demanded, careful to keep his voice low. Normally, he didn't much mind her teasing _what did you do this time?_ routine, but in light of their most recent argument, Harry didn't find it as funny as he normally would.

“Because every time you two disagree on something, you say something unintentionally hurtful, Sirius takes it personally and sulks like an overgrown toddler, but with firewhisky. Then you come over here, and I have to point out what you did to upset him this time,” she said simply, and Harry frowned at her.

“Well, it wasn't just me this time,” he grumbled, and dropped his gaze from his friend to glare into his teacup.

“Was he pushing for kids again, Harry?” Hermione asked after several minutes of awkward silence, and frowning, Harry nodded.

“Ever since you had your Whoops Baby—” Harry began, and Hermione cut across him with a sputter.

“—I _wish_ you and Ron would stop calling her that,” Hermione grumbled, “she was an accident, sure, but...she's my little girl.”

“You know I'm only teasing, Hermione,” Harry replied with a grin, and she shook her head. “Come on, it's not like I'd ever call her that to her face.”

“Well, even so, knock it off. Kids hear _everything_ , and I don't want her ever thinking of herself as an accident. Now, please continue,” Hermione replied, and Harry bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning at her.

“Anyway, after Rose, Sirius started hinting even more that he wants to start on the second half of the _Potestas_ curse, you know...” Harry trailed off as he flushed a deep scarlet.

“Sirius wants to start the procedure to try for a baby?” Hermione repeated, and Harry nodded.

“It's just...this is big. And I mean, I'm still not completely comfortable with the idea of, well, being pregnant,” Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, and he could practically feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off his face. “I grew up believing that that was only something _women_ could do. It's so weird to imagine _me_ going through that.”

“And you don't think it's weird for me?” Hermione asked as she cocked a brow at Harry, and Harry blinked back at her in confusion. “Having a little...a little _person_ inside you, being wider than you are tall, and all the fun things that come with it...it's strange, Harry, _beyond_ strange. But...” She trailed off as she looked down at the child in her arms, and her expression immediately softened. “Let me tell you, if you want it, all the pain, the awkwardness, the uncomfortable things...it's so worth it.”

Harry squirmed uneasily in his seat. The idea of it still sounded beyond unpleasant, but he could not deny that the pull of having a family of his own was something he had always wanted. However, getting over than hump of the fact that it would be _him_ carrying the child was difficult to get over.

“Think on it, Harry,” Hermione said gently as she drew him out of his thoughts. “I know Sirius really wants it, he's almost fifty, he's waited a long time to be a dad. But, don't let his feelings sway you. Don't do it just to please him. Make sure you want it too, otherwise you'll be miserable.”

 

~*~

 

“So...” Harry began an hour later as he prepared to leave Hermione to her kids, “I think I'm going to—er, _we're_ going to...do this thing,” Harry said, and Hermione stopped in mid-step, heading for Hugo's room to check on him, and she raised her eyebrows at him.

“Harry, are you _sure_?” she asked uncertainly, and he laughed.

“No. Not even close,” he replied, and she giggled a little. “I still need to think on it more, but...this has helped. I think I'm mostly ready to do this, I just need to get myself the rest of the way there. I want a family, I really do, and having one with Sirius...” Harry trailed off as he flushed scarlet, and Hermione smiled at him knowingly.

“He's a good man,” she filled in, “and he loves you more than the waking world, Harry. I know he'll give you all the support that you need to get through this.”

 

~*~

 

Harry arrived home later feeling slightly better than when he had left. His mind was abuzz with conflicting thoughts, and he felt caught between the dread at the prospect that he would _have_ to do it, and soon, and the overwhelming feeling that he really wasn't sure if he was ready to be a father. Babysitting Teddy or any of the Weasley children was one thing, being a dad himself was something else entirely.

Too agitated to sit down and work on his writing project, Harry puttered around the house, alternating between reading, grazing on snacks, and trying to read and unwind. Nothing helped distract him, his mind still firmly fixed upon his disagreement with Sirius, and his subsequent discussion with Hermione.

Harry ate dinner alone, and just as he began to get worried and toyed with the idea of heading to London to bring Sirius home, the fireplace flared an emerald green, and Sirius tumbled out of the grate.

For a moment, Harry was amazed that Sirius had made it home in one piece, given that he seemed as though he could barely stand on his own. His face was flushed, his eyes were glazed over, and he swayed like a tree against a strong wind.

“Har'y,” Sirius slurred, “'M home.”

“I can see that,” Harry replied, struggling to keep the bite of annoyance from his tone as he stood up and walked over to him, jumping a little when Sirius bowed forward to embrace him, putting most of his weight on Harry, which caused him to stagger back a little. “How much have you had?”

“So many,” Sirius mumbled, hugging Harry tightly as he stood there. “Was mad at you. Didn't mean it...firewhisky makes me think better.”

“I'm sure it does,” Harry muttered sarcastically, and shifted to brace an arm around Sirius to keep him from toppling over. “C'mon, let's get you to bed. Do you need to puke?”

“M'fine,” Sirius mumbled, and lurched towards Harry, giving his bum a sharp squeeze, “bed?”

“I don't think you're clearheaded enough to get it up,” Harry replied dryly, “c'mon, I want you to go to _sleep_.”

“Hmm...sleep is no fun. Want you.” Sirius leant in and laved at the side of Harry's throat, as though he was trying to be sensual, but it felt to Harry more like a dog was lapping at his neck.

“Not tonight, Sirius,” Harry replied, and began to lead him towards the bedroom, while he ignored Sirius's continued, sloppy attempts to get him in the 'mood'. He bestowed Harry's throat and cheek with wet kisses, and the hand on his arse gripping so hard that it was almost painful.

“But I _want_ it,” Sirius whined, and Harry rolled his eyes. He decided to not answer, and continued to half-drag the older man down the hall. Once they'd reached their room, Harry led him over to the bed and let him go, and Sirius fell like a dead weight onto it, making the springs creak a little. Harry crouched down to yank his boots off, then used his wand to disrobe him down to his pants. He rolled Sirius under the covers, then left to get ready for bed himself.

When Harry returned to the room, it seemed as though Sirius was asleep, and Harry slipped under the duvet as quietly as he could. The moment he settled down however, Sirius shimmied over to him, wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and drew him close. Harry's protests were perched on the tip of his tongue, but he was stopped short when he heard the sound of soft, snuffling breaths behind him, and he realized with an unpleasant jolt in his stomach that Sirius was crying.

“Sirius?” Harry prompted, and rolled over as he felt a tear drip onto his shoulder.

“'M sorry, Harry,” Sirius mumbled as his hold on Harry tightened a little. “Bin stupid. Want you happy, but want a family...Want a family with you, 'cause I love you. I love you so much...” He trailed off, and Harry watched Sirius's head dip a little in shame. Harry reached out and pressed a hand against Sirius's prickly, stubbled cheek, drawing the older man's attention back to him.

“I know, I know that you do, Sirius,” Harry whispered, and leant in to kiss him lightly. “Just try to get some sleep and we'll talk about it in the morning, yeah?”

Sirius nodded a little, and his hold on him tightened. He kissed Harry gently, then Sirius buried his face in the crook of the younger man's neck, and he could feel his skin dampen with Sirius's tears.

“You're too good for me, Harry. Love you...”

Harry rubbed Sirius's back, and allowed his husband to cling to him until he finally passed out.

 

**4** **th** **May, 2008**

“Good morning, sunshine!” Harry cried loudly as Sirius staggered into the dining room, and he let out a low groan as he cradled his head in his hands.

“Can you keep it down to a dull roar?” Sirius grumbled as he sat down heavily and reached for the coffee, but Harry's hand on the French Press stopped him short.

“I want you to hear what I have to say on an empty stomach, so that maybe you'll digest it,” Harry said firmly, which earned him a nasty glare, but he ignored it as he continued. “You are forty-eight years old, Sirius. Every fucking time we have a disagreement, you rush off to the nearest pub and get pissed. If you have an issue, _talk to me_. Don't sulk over it like an overgrown child.”

Harry finally sat down in the adjacent chair, and shifted to take his husband's hands. “Sirius, you were brilliant for keeping your head during the courtship. You were always so patient, gentle, and just...brilliant. What happened? Why are you acting like this?” Harry looked up at him sadly, and through Sirius's skull-splitting hangover, Harry could see a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

“You wanna know what happened, Harry?” Sirius growled, narrowing his bloodshot eyes at him, “ _life_ happened. I woke up one fucking morning and found myself married to someone I _adore_ who won't love me back, who refuses to start a family with me, and you know what? I'm not perfect, I handled it badly. I can't help feeling rejected, and when we make love, I know to you it's not _love,_ ” Sirius sneered the final word, his voice laced with disgust, “it's just a shag. And the worst part is, eventually we'll have to, whether you want to or not, and I hate that you've been forced into this, clearly before you're ready.”

Harry felt as though he'd been slapped. He stared back at Sirius, mouth agape, uncertain whether he felt more angry or hurt by the sentiment. Clenching his teeth in an effort to keep himself from saying someone equally hurtful, he dropped Sirius's hands and pushed the coffee towards him, then slammed down a small vial of white potion next to Sirius's empty mug.

“I'm sorry, your _horrible_ husband brewed you a Hangover Draught this morning,” Harry snapped, and stormed back towards their bedroom.

Harry grabbed a pair of jeans from the wardrobe, along with a T-shirt and jumper, but as he moved to strip out of his pyjamas and pull them on, he stopped short and sat down heavily upon he end of the bed. He buried his face in his hands, and took several deep breaths, but it did little to alleviate the sting.

He hadn't been sitting there for a full minute when Harry heard the door creak open, and he listened to soft sound of Sirius shuffling across the room. The bed dipped next to him, and Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, drawing him close.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” he murmured softly, the tone of his voice making it clear that he had taken the hangover potion at least, and sounded slightly more awake. “I'm just...frustrated, is all. I've wanted this for a long time, and I know you have, too. It just...the constant deflecting and rejections are wearing on me a little.”

Harry snuggled closer to Sirius, his eyes still closed as he pressed his cheek against Sirius's shoulder. Sirius's hold on him tightened sightly, and he pressed a kiss against the top of his head.

“I'm sorry too, Sirius,” Harry muttered, “maybe I shouldn't've ambushed you like that first thing in the morning, but...I mean, I want this, but what we have to go through to get it is fucking terrifying and...other things.” Harry frowned, unable to voice his distress over the idea of bringing a child into a marriage with such one-sided affection.

“Not one of your best ideas to be sure,” Sirius replied with a chuckle, “but it's not like I didn't deserve it.”

Harry felt Sirius's hand cradle his chin, and his eyes flicked open as Sirius gently coaxed his head up, and he met Harry's lips in a feather-light kiss.

“Come back and have some breakfast,” Sirius whispered softly, his breath tickling lightly across Harry's mouth. “Once we're both properly awake, fed, and caffeinated, we'll discuss this thing like proper adults. All right?”

“Yeah, all right.”

 

~*~

 

Though Harry had seriously doubted Sirius's _we'll discuss this like proper adults_ proclamation, he did as he was told and sat down and ate with his husband, then showered, and got dressed.

Two hours later, Harry found himself re-seated at the table, Sirius at the head and Harry in the adjacent seat, and spread over the space between them were a number of pamphlets and books detailing the male pregnancy procedure. Harry felt his stomach turn over at the sight of them, and even though he already felt as though they'd discussed this subject to death, he knew that no matter how sick of talking about it he was, he still had to do it, no matter how little he wanted to.

“Harry,” Sirius began, sounding much more like his old self now that he'd been given a chance to wake up, “I know the idea of this whole... _thing_ is really daunting to you, but what about it scares you the most?”

Harry dropped his gaze from Sirius to the table. The sight of the reading material made it no easier to formulate an answer, and so he closed his eyes, took a breath, and began to speak.

“Sirius, this...it isn't a rejection,” Harry began, his eyes flicking open as he looked up to meet Sirius's gaze. His eyes were wide, and the clear vulnerability that Harry saw there was enough to give him pause. “I care for you, I do, but...I don't think it's love-love. I thought I would get there in time, but there's a mental block there that I just can't shake. I mean, after everything, you're still my...still my godfather.”

Sirius's expression flooded with hurt, and Harry forced his gaze down to his lap. “I wanted to try and force myself to love you like you love me, but then it wouldn't be real. And...it wouldn't be fair to you. And this...this _thing_ we have to do, as part of the _Potestas_ curse, it scares the shit out of me.” Harry lifted his gaze again, and he could see some of Sirius's pain receding in the face of his admission at how scared he was. “Sirius...I want a family, I do, but bringing a child into it when our marriage is so shaky, and not to mention the other stuff I'd have to go through. You just... _leave a deposit_ and you're done. Me, I...it's a lot to ask of one person.”

Though Harry felt horribly guilty at all he had admitted, and Sirius appeared caught between offence at Harry's statements, and a strange sense of sympathy. Instead of offering Harry a verbal answer, he pushed his chair out from the table, and then locked eyes with Harry once more.

“Come here.”

Harry blinked.

“What?”

“Here,” Sirius extended his arms and nodded to his lap.

“Er, okay,” Harry said as he stood uncertainly and padded towards Sirius, closing the distance between them in a matter of seconds. Harry sat crossways across Sirius's knees, but he adjusted Harry's position almost at once until Harry was more or less straddling him, and he wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, while Harry reached forward to drape his arms over Sirius's shoulders. He arched up a little and ghosted his lips across Harry's in a light kiss, then pressed his forehead against Harry's as he gazed intently into his eyes.

“The top priority I have is you, Harry,” Sirius began, his tone firm, “more than anything else, I want you to be happy with me. I know that neither of us chose this, but we're making a go at it, and I'd say overall we're not doing too badly, do you agree?”

“Yeah, I agree,” Harry replied at once, which earned him a smile from his partner before he continued.

“Couples have kids when things are shaky sometimes as a way to bring them closer together. I don't know if it'd work for us, and our situation's a little...” Sirius paused and looked away, his hold on Harry tightening a little before he spoke again, changing tacks. “You wouldn't be alone in this, Harry. Normally, I would have have suggested finding a surrogate mum, especially considering how uncomfortable you are with all this, but the curse would view it as infidelity, so we're backed into a corner, so to speak—we literally have no other option, we have to go through with this. I promise you, Harry, I would be with you every step of the way, and you have the support of your friends...your _family_. Everyone around you will help you through this.”

Harry opened his mouth, another protest perched on his lips, but he stopped short as his gaze strayed to the mess on the table next to them. As he stared at the books and leaflets, his mind supplied images of their house, usually so silent, now filled with the pitter-patter of little footsteps, the giggles of a child's voice as Sirius and he played with them—their house at last a _home_.

Quite suddenly, Harry felt a tingle of longing that he'd felt, albeit briefly, with Hermione the day before. He looked down at Sirius, and chewed on his lip, while he regarded Harry with a pleading look. As he gazed at him, Hermione's voice slipped into his mind.

_Don't let his feelings sway you. Don't do it just to please him. Make sure you want it too, otherwise you'll be miserable._

_If I don't want it, I'll be miserable,_ Harry thought, and chewed on the inside of his cheek as his arms tightened around his husband, and he moved in to kiss him lightly.

“Okay,” Harry said, his voice shaking a little as he spoke, “let's...let's do it.”

 


	5. Hopelessly Devoted to You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As of next week I will be back in school. While this shouldn't affect my updates at all, the date of posting might change again. So for right now, the next update will be February 2nd, and although it is subject to change, it will for sure not be any later than that.

Chapter Five – Hopelessly Devoted to You

 

**19 th May, 2008**

Harry wrinkled his nose as he and Sirius crossed the invisible threshold of St Mungo's and into the hospital itself. The sterile scent agitated Harry a little, and it was a stark reminder as to why they were there. Though Harry had agreed to it just over a fortnight prior, Harry still didn't feel completely ready to face it.

“It'll be all right, Harry,” Sirius murmured, as though he sensed his anxiety, while he reached for Harry's hand and gave it a small squeeze. Harry nodded a little and forced a small smile while he followed Sirius's lead past the reception desk and to the Maternity Ward.

Harry felt his stomach turn over as they crossed into the space, and his eyes fell on the swollen bellies of a number of pregnant women—and even a handful of men. It was incredibly strange to see, and while many of the men seemed to have taken on an androgynous look, there was one man in the corner with a full, bushy beard, sporting a V-neck set of robes that really showed off his impressive, full breasts quite spectacularly, giving the impression that the man was _proud_ of his new bodily acquisition, not the other way around.

Shaking his head, Harry forced his gaze away and stared down at his trainers, content to follow Sirius's lead in an attempt to avoid staring at the other patients. After a moment, they stopped before a small reception desk, and Harry finally lifted his gaze.

“May I help you, sirs?” the elderly Healer asked in a whispery, reedy voice.

“Yes, we have an appointment with Healer Singh for two o'clock?” Sirius asked, and the woman drew out a monocle, which she perched against her left eye as she consulted a long scroll of parchment before her.

“Yes, I see you here, please have a seat and wait until your name is called,” she said distractedly, waving them off.

Harry and Sirius exchanged a look, then still hand in hand, they headed over to the seating area and sat down.

Sirius immediately picked up a magazine and began flipping through it, while Harry sat silently, twisting his hands together nervously. He kept his gaze fixed firmly upon his lap, certain that if he dared glance up, he'd end up gawking at the other patients in the room with him. Harry felt uncomfortable enough without passing it on to the other patients as well.

“Potter-Black?”

At the call Harry's gaze snapped up, and Sirius immediately rested a hand on his arm.

“Breathe, Harry,” he said softly, “it'll be fine, you'll see.”

Nodding stiffly, Harry followed Sirius's lead up and towards the Mediwitch that had spoken, and without a word she led them out of the waiting room, down a narrow hallway, and into an empty examination room.

“Healer Singh will be with you in a moment, just have a seat,” she said kindly, and Sirius went about thanking her, while Harry fell heavily onto one of the available chairs.

As the door snapped shut, Sirius sat down next to Harry and took his hands in his own, offering them a small squeeze of reassurance.

“Harry, relax,” Sirius said softly, then moved one of the limbs to the back of Harry's neck, rubbing it gently for a moment before he drew his young husband in for a kiss. “Nothing will happen today. It's just a checkup to make sure you're healthy enough to go forward with this procedure.”

“I know,” Harry muttered, unable to lift his gaze, “it's just...I'm sorry, it's still a big step.”

Instead of answering straightaway, Sirius drew Harry into a tight embrace. With the armrests of their chairs in the way the hug was a bit awkward, but Harry clung tightly to Sirius, breathing deeply as he tried to calm down.

“We're ready, _more_ than ready for this, Harry. I know that you don't think that you are, but trust me—you're _ready._ ”

Harry wasn't so sure about that, but he nodded nonetheless. Sirius pressed a kiss to his forehead, and they were just untangling themselves from one another when the door clicked open again, and a pretty young healer stepped inside, her black hair pulled back from her face in a long plait that ran down the centre of her back, with wide, rimmed glasses and a scroll in her hands.

“Good afternoon!” She chirped as she stepped inside, “I'm Healer Mira Singh, how are you doing today, Harry?”

“A-all right, I guess, a bit nervous,” he replied, though in the presence of the healer, he felt a little calmer. She was less like a mediwitch and more like a perky salesgirl at a clothes shop, but something about her made Harry feel as though he could trust her. At the same time, Sirius's hand rubbing up and down his back certainly helped ease some of his tension, and remarkably, he felt much calmer in that moment than he expected to be.

“Well, you needn't be nervous,” she said cheerfully, while she offered Harry a warm smile. “Today all we'll be doing is going over the procedure with you, then a general checkup to make sure that you're healthy enough to go forward with it. This procedure is very hard on the body, you see, so you will need to follow my instructions to a T. No slip-ups, understand?” Her voice dropped its cheerful tone and took an a very serious one as she spoke, and it surprised Harry so much that he nodded at once.

“Good, all right, so, this is how it works,” Healer Singh continued, and summoned a thick book to her with a short jab of her wand. She opened it and flicked through the pages until she came upon a chapter titled, _Male Pregnancy._

“First, you will be given several potions that you will need to take over the course of six months,” Healer Singh explained patiently. “These potions will grow the necessary organs that you will need to carry a child to term. This will not be exactly pleasant for you—you'll experience minor back pain, your chest will become very sensitive, but it's nothing that will really impede on your day-to-day activities. We monitor you closely to see how the organs are coming along, because they're artificial, you won't experience menstruation cycles. When everything is ready, you and your husband will take a sample of your semen and combine it with another potion, which will transform it into a single egg. That is implanted, then...well...” she trailed off and smiled knowingly at the pair of them, which caused both Harry and Sirius to go a little red.

“After that it's a normal pregnancy, but you will need to be extra careful,” she continued, her voice once more adopting a more serious tone. “No caffeine, no pain potions or muggle drugs, no lifting anything over five pounds, no strong magic, no Apparition...I'll have a list for you when the time comes. The only major difference between this and a natural pregnancy is that your only birth option is delivery by cesarean section...the rectum is simply not equipped to deliver a child naturally.”

“That is...that's a lot,” Harry said awkwardly. “Erm...how bad is that pain you mentioned?” Harry asked, and winced at how small his voice sounded. He did however feel marginally relieved that he wouldn't have to worry about delivering a baby the normal way, given how Hermione's description of, _it's like_ _pushing a bowling ball through the eye of a needle_ wasn't exactly his idea of a good time.

“It's manageable, less painful than a normal menstruation cycle, but...” she paused and laughed a little, “men seem to have a lower pain threshold than most women, so you may feel differently.”

“Brilliant...” Harry replied, and made a mental note to talk to Hermione about this _pain_ he was supposed to endure.

“Well, Harry, would you like to go forward with this, or do you need some more time to think about it?” Healer Singh asked, her voice back to its perky, cheerful tone, as though she was trying to silently imply that he still had the choice to say _no_ if he wanted.

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and felt Sirius perk up next to him. “I— _we_ would like to go forward with this.” As Harry spoke he reached out and took Sirius's hand to give it a small squeeze. He looked over to his husband, and he smiled when he saw Sirius's face light up.

“All right then, Harry, step on up to my examination table and we can get started,” she said while she motioned to the other side of the room, and a little shakily, Harry reluctantly pulled away from Sirius as he stood and crossed the space to lie down. Sirius followed, and Harry immediately reached for his hand again while the healer began her work, walking up and down the length of Harry's body, flicking her wand here and there as she went, while she muttered to herself under her breath.

Sirius stood just at the head of the cot, making their hand-holding slightly awkward, but his touch was soothing, like a cooling salve on a burn. The healer did not comment on it and instead continued her work in silence, though Harry did not miss the way her mouth quirked into a small smile when Sirius moved his free hand to Harry's hair, and began to stroke the unruly locks lightly.

After about ten minutes, Healer Singh flicked her wand one last time, and a tiny scroll of parchment appeared in front of her, hovering in midair. She reached out and grabbed it, then unrolled it to look at its contents.

“You are in perfect health, Harry,” she announced when she let go of one end of the scroll, and it bounced back into a tight roll. “We can begin the procedure whenever you're ready.”

“Great,” Harry replied with a weak smile as he sat up, and a false joy the he did not feel. Sirius offered his hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze, but otherwise he did not speak.

 

The couple arrived home later that evening, Harry sporting a paper bag full of a number of vials of potion, and Sirius's arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

Even after agreeing to begin the procedure, Harry felt slightly sick with fear at the idea of it. He knew that once he began, there would be no turning back, and by the end, he would have a _child_ to care for.

The concept of a baby, _his_ baby, was so strange, so abstract, that Harry could hardly picture it.

A pair of warm arms suddenly embraced Harry from behind, jarring him from his tangled, nervous thoughts, and he felt himself relax into the embrace.

“How are you doing?” Sirius asked softly, and placed a gentle kiss upon the side of Harry's neck.

“As well as can be expected, I guess,” Harry replied weakly, “it's a lot to take in.”

“Are you feeling overwhelmed?”

“Not yet,” Harry said with a weak laugh, “but close.”

Sirius plucked the bag of potions from Harry's hands and dropped it onto the nearby kitchen counter, then ushered him into the sitting room. He forced Harry down onto the sofa, then headed back into the kitchen, where Harry could hear Sirius puttering about, and came back not five minutes later with a tray of tea and biscuits.

“I don't want you to think about it tonight, or tomorrow, or the next day,” Sirius said firmly while he pressed a black mug into Harry's hands, then sat next to him and draped his arms around Harry in a gentle embrace. “Give yourself some time to get accustomed to the idea of starting this, and when you do start to take them, I'll get the other items you'll need so that you don't get too overwhelmed with everything.”

Harry had relaxed into the offered embrace, and felt himself relaxing between Sirius's gentle attentions and the warm cup of tea in his hands. At the words _other items_ , he felt his stomach turn over with momentary nervousness.

“Er...other items?”

“Special salves for your skin, and certain...ah, _undergarments_ for men going through with this procedure,” Sirius explained, his tone clear that he was trying to phrase it as delicately as possible so as to not upset Harry or make him feel even more nervous about the whole situation.

“Oh.”

“I'm going to take care of you, Harry,” Sirius said firmly, “I want you to feel comfortable, safe, and completely at ease when we start this thing. For the next fifteen months, all I want you to worry about is _you._ ”

 

**21** **st** **May, 2008**

Harry lay stretched out on his bed, a vial of thin, pastel green potion in his hands. He twirled it absently between his fingers, then with a heavy sigh he dropped it back into the bag on his night table.

The house was far too quiet with Sirius at work, and with all of his other friends off at their respective jobs—or busy with their own kids—Harry felt painfully bored with only his thoughts to occupy him. This meant that despite Sirius's suggestion that he _not_ think about the procedure for a few days, instead he struggled to think of anything _but_.

With another heavy sigh Harry got up and walked out of the bedroom, though he paused long enough to pull on a green jumper before he headed outside.

Harry meandered down the winding path from his home to the road, then made his way to the Hogsmeade High Street.

Even with dozens of people around him, Harry found that his maudlin mood didn't improve, and smiling at the few Hogwarts professors he strode past was almost painful.

Harry popped into the Three Broomsticks for lunch before heading home, and though the short trip hadn't helped lift his spirits any, he did feel marginally more clearheaded, enabling him to think more rationally on the situation.

 _It's not the way I thought I'd become a father,_ Harry thought for what was likely the hundredth time as he circled the house and began to pick vegetables and fresh herbs from the garden for dinner, _but maybe it won't be as bad as I'm making it out to be. Every time I've freaked out about something Sirius has been there to keep me sane and help me hold it together. He'll be here for this too—he promised._

 

~*~

 

Sirius Apparated home for dinner a little earlier than usual, and Harry flicked his wand at the pot to put the meal in stasis just as Sirius burst through the door, reeking of sweat and engine grease.

“Welcome home,” Harry greeted with a small smile, and Sirius mirrored the expression. His attitude had been leaps and bounds better since they'd agreed to go forward with the procedure, and he no longer wandered in late smelling of whisky, which was a massive improvement.

“Thanks,” Sirius replied mere seconds before he swept in and kissed Harry lightly. “What smells so good, apart from you, I mean?”

“Flatterer,” Harry replied with a snort, and elbowed him gently, making Sirius laugh. “Vegetable stew with chicken. Now go wash up while I finish this—you stink.”

“Ever the charmer,” Sirius replied teasingly as he stepped back and headed out of the kitchen. A moment later Harry heard the shower begin to run, and he turned back to the task at hand.

Harry took the charm off the stew, and stirred it absentmindedly as his stomach flip-flopped over the kiss he'd just shared with Sirius. He no longer felt uneasy about intimacy with Sirius—after just over three years, it was to be expected that he'd grow used to it, even enjoy it, but Harry still struggled to identify the physical reactions to these intimate moments. The butterflies in his stomach, the way he felt hot and tingly all over, like he'd grabbed hold of a live wire, and the dazed feeling he got when it all ended...what did it mean?

 _Have I finally learned to love him?_ Harry wondered idly while he sent a basket of rolls, a pat of butter, and a bottle of wine to the dinner table, closely followed by the pot of stew.

His musings were cut short as Sirius re-emerged from the shower, his damp hair pushed back from his face, and dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt.

The clothes clung to Sirius's still-damp body sinfully, and Harry felt his mouth go a little dry as he watched him. The distinctive glint in the older man's eye told Harry that he likely knew _exactly_ how good he looked, but offered up no comment as he helped himself to a bowl of stew and some bread, then took to the task of uncorking the red wine and pouring a measure for each of them.

 

“So...” Sirius said about ten minutes later, breaking the comfortable silence while he picked apart his bread with his fingers, leaving crumbs everywhere. “I noticed that the potions the Healer gave you were on the night stand again.”

“Er, yeah,” Harry looked down into the contents of his glass. “I was just thinking about it. I know you'll be there for me and everything, but it's still...I'm still nervous.”

A warm hand covering his own caused Harry to glance up, and Sirius was gazing at him with a look of warm adoration upon his face.

“I told you that we wouldn't do it until you felt ready, and I meant that, Harry,” Sirius said, his thumb brushing over the back of Harry's hand as he spoke. “We've taken step one, going to see a Healer. We know physically you are ready to do this. And we'll _only_ start when you want to start. I know I was kind of an arse before, but...”

“You want it,” Harry said simply, and Sirius nodded, a note of guilt in his expression. “I do too, you know that, right?” he asked, and Sirius's head snapped up a little, his eyes wide with surprise. “I've _always_ wanted a family. But...this isn't exactly how I pictured getting one. It's a little overwhelming, you know?”

“I know,” Sirius replied at once. “I mean, I don't _know-_ know, but...I know, you know?”

“Sounds like you know,” Harry replied, and Sirius snorted.

“You know what I mean.”

Harry smiled.

“Yeah, I do.”

 

~*~

 

Exhausted after all his stressing and fretting, Harry turned in early that evening, and lay curled up in bed, once more fiddling with the vials of potion that were still sitting on the night table instead of actually sleeping.

 _Am I really as ready for this as Sirius seems to think that I am?_ Harry wondered as he tilted the vial between his fingers like a tiny see-saw.

The soft scuffling of Sirius entering the bedroom drew Harry from his thoughts, and when he looked up he saw that Sirius had stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were fixed on the tiny vial in Harry's hand, and he did not miss the look of nervous hope that crossed his features.

Harry took a shaking breath, uncorked the small vial, and lifted it to his lips.

The potion tasted like blackstrap molasses, but was blessedly much thinner, and Harry quickly conjured a goblet of water, and washed the acrid taste out of his mouth with a few hasty gulps.

When Harry looked back up, he saw that Sirius had stripped out of his clothes and was sliding into bed next to him, but strangely, he did not look happy. Harry reached for his hand, and for a long moment the older man did not speak.

“I can't help but feel like I pushed you into this,” Sirius said softly, and looked up at Harry, an unnervingly vulnerable look in his eyes. Harry inched closer to him and brushed his lips over Sirius's in a light kiss.

“ _Potestas_ pushed me into this. You made me feel like I can get through it more or less in one piece, so don't beat yourself up over it,” Harry said simply, and Sirius smiled.

“Do you feel any different?”

“Not really,” Harry replied, and fidgeted a little. “A little queasy, but I think that's from nerves, not the potion.” He eased back against the pillows, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest. Sirius lay down next to him, untangled his hand from Harry's and draped his arm across his middle to draw him close. He brushed a kiss against Harry's temple, and Harry's eyelids fluttered at the sensation, then he turned to kiss Sirius properly.

As their lips met, Sirius shifted again to press his palm flat against Harry's abdomen, and slowly began to inch down towards the waistband of his pyjama bottoms.

“No,” Harry whispered as Sirius's fingertips brushed against the elastic, and his hand froze. “I don't—I mean, I don't want you to distract me from...from what I just did with sex. It doesn't feel right.”

Sirius immediately moved his arm back to its original position, and kissed Harry again.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “I didn't really think about it like that, but I understand what you mean...I think.”

“S'all right,” Harry replied, and shifted closer to close the distance between them, “I'm kind of terrified. I need to...I dunno, not hide from it, or something.”

“I know that you are, Harry,” Sirius said softly, and tightened his hold on Harry slightly, “but you're stronger than you know. You'll get through this, and when you feel like you can't...I'll be your strength, yeah?”

Harry smiled, but feeling as though he'd momentarily lost his voice, he nodded. He took his glasses off and set them next to the potions, then curled up in Sirius's warm embrace with a gentle sigh of contentment.

Harry had his flaws, and so did Sirius.

Neither of them were perfect, and their marriage wasn't a portrait of trouble-free marital bliss—far from it, in fact.

But for all the problems, stupid arguments, and awkwardness, Harry could not recall any time in his life before this where he had felt so protected.

So safe.

So _loved._

 


	6. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Because of school and everything, updates will be moved to every second Thursday, meaning the next update will be Thursday, February 15th. Apologies in advance about the shortness of this chapter, I promise that the next one will be longer :)

Chapter Six – Changes

 

**23 rd June, 2008**

The soft rush of the summer rain was oddly soothing to Harry, and he found himself so caught up in listening to the sound while he dozed on the sofa that it did not immediately register that Sirius had gotten home. It didn't matter much, he was just so _tired_ these days, and Sirius's presence, while comforting, did not necessarily make him feel any more awake.

“Harry?” he called, paired with a distinct rustle of fabric that told Harry that Sirius was shedding his jacket. “You home?”

“In here!”

Harry's eyes flicked opened as he called out, and Sirius tramped into the sitting room looking every part the proverbial drowned rat—or wet dog, as the case may be. Harry didn't move, but glanced up at Sirius from his spot on the sofa, while the older man regarded him oddly, his head cocked to the side with confusion, though for once, Harry had no idea what had caused Sirius to look at him like that.

“What are you doing?” he eventually asked, and Harry blinked slowly with mirrored confusion as he stared up at his husband.

“What does it _look_ like I'm doing?” he responded, while they continued their impromptu staring contest.

“Like you were having a lie-down, slipped off your pillow to lie flat on the sofa, and never bothered sitting back up,” Sirius replied, his tone dry, and Harry reached out to swat his thigh lightly, making Sirius chuckle.

“Very funny,” Harry said while he got up, “I was just— _oh!_ ” he hissed in sudden pain, his knees buckled, and he fell back onto the sofa as a hand went to his lower back.

“Harry?” Sirius rushed forward and sat next to him, his eyes wide with alarm. “Are you all right?”

“No, I'm _not_ all right,” he growled, “do I _look_ all-fucking-right?” He glared at Sirius for a moment, then his expression softened as he explained, “it's my—my back. I just got a muscle spasm, that's all.”

Sirius's hand moved to cover Harry's against his lower spine, and Harry tugged his hand away so that Sirius could feel the muscle more easily. Immediately, Sirius slipped the limb under the hem of Harry's T-shirt and rubbed the sore spot in slow, comforting circles.

“A sharp pain in the small of your back?” Sirius verified, and Harry nodded. To his surprise, Sirius laughed. “Harry, that's not a muscle spasm.”

“Then what the hell was it?”

“The potions are working.”

Somehow, that didn't make Harry feel any better.  Harry let out a soft groan and leant against Sirius's side, while the older man chuckled and planted a kiss to his forehead.

 

~*~

  

Despite Harry's reluctance, Sirius insisted that he stay laying down, while he went about preparing dinner. By all accounts Sirius was still an abysmal cook, but he could manage small things without Harry worrying that he was going to burn the house down which was progress, at least.

Harry's back was still aching. It was much, much more painful than the Healer had implied, and even the hot water bottle resting over the sore muscles did little to alleviate the ache. Laying on his stomach, Harry let out a small moan of discomfort, and buried his face in his folded arms.

“Harry?” Sirius called as he stepped into the sitting room, and with the sound of his approach came the smell of cooked eggs and toast. Harry didn't look up, but merely responded with another soft groan of discomfort. The sofa dipped a little, and Sirius's hands replaced the hot water bottle. He rubbed gently, and though it felt nice, it helped about as much as the hot water bottle had.

“I contacted Hermione, I figured she'd know best what you're going through, and she said that doing some sort of exercise or something would help with the pain—” Harry's loud, derisive snort cut Sirius off abruptly, and he peered up from the crook of his arms to stare incredulously at his husband.

“Is she _completely_ mad?” Harry demanded, “Exercise? Like _this_? No way.”

“I thought that you might have that reaction,” Sirius replied with a soft chuckle. “I asked her for a Plan B, and she sent this over.” Sirius held out a small muggle pill bottle that read _Midol_ , as well as a bar of Honeydukes' best milk chocolate. “She swears that this stuff won't interfere with the potions you're taking, but will definitely help with some of the pain.”

“The chocolate or the drugs?” Harry asked, and Sirius snorted.

“Very funny,” he said while he offered Harry the items, which Harry happily accepted. He dry-swallowed two of the little pills, then flopped back down on the sofa, while Sirius continued to massage his lower back gently. His rough, careworn hands felt nice against Harry's sensitive skin, and he shared the chocolate with Sirius while ever so slowly, the pills began to work.

Harry sat up with a small sigh of relief, and leant back against the sofa's cushions. Sirius shifted so that he sat at Harry's side, and Harry immediately leant against him.

“That bad?” Sirius asked as he buried his fingers in Harry's hair, and he let out a tiny groan as he nodded to Sirius's question.

“I have _no_ idea how Hermione goes through this every month, it's awful, like my insides have been put into a blender...” Harry moaned miserably and buried his face in the crook of Sirius's shoulder, but instead of pitying him like Harry had expected, Sirius offered up a soft, derisive snort.

“ _Now_ you're just being dramatic,” Sirius said, and his mildly dismissive tone immediately grated on Harry's nerves. “The Healer said that the pain would be mild—”

“— _dramatic?_ ” Harry interrupted angrily, “I am not being _dramatic_ , it's awful. If you don't believe me, when these drugs wear off, I'll cast the Share My Pain Hex on you, I swear.”

“Well if you're going to be a little priss and threaten me, I'll just go off and do something else—” Sirius said with an annoyed huff as he began to stand up, and Harry clung to him more tightly, refusing to let him move, and the older man regarded him oddly.

“Harry?” Sirius asked tentatively after a moment of silence.

“Yeah?”

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Don't ask stupid questions,” he mumbled in response, and Sirius chuckled as his hand dropped to the small of Harry's back again and expertly massaged the muscles that he found there. Harry let out a tiny, contented sigh, and snuggled closer to his husband.

“Is it really that bad?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded mutely. He had no idea how else to explain it, even though the pain was momentarily gone, there was a dull throb to his muscles that seemed to hang over him like a dark cloud, ready to unleash a torrential downpour any minute.

“I think the Healer was understating it to make me less freaked out by everything...” Harry muttered, and smiled when he felt a light kiss brush his temple.

“It's not forever,” Sirius murmured softly, his tone reassuring, “This is...it's a moment in time. Until then, I'll be there to help you get through it, okay?”

“It _feels_ like forever...” Harry mumbled with a heavy sigh, “and I keep getting upset over stupid things...”

“Like what?”

“I couldn't find the meat knife and I got so upset that I started _crying_...I mean, what the hell?”

“You body is adapting to carry a child, Harry,” Sirius explained in a gentle tone, “that means your hormones are going haywire, and you might react... _differently_ to random things. It's not bad, it's just...normal.”

“Somehow that's not making me feel any better,” Harry replied sourly, “if you want another kid after this, you carry it yourself, I can't do this a second time, I mean it.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Sirius murmured with amusement as he pressed a kiss to Harry's temple, and at last, Harry felt himself relax a little. Sirius's presence was comforting, despite the fact that they'd been bickering not a full five minutes before.

_He always knows how to make me feel better, even when I'm pissed at him,_ Harry mused as he inhaled the distinctive scent that he always associated with Sirius—leather, tobacco, and overpriced cologne. _How does he do that?_

Sirius moved to kiss his temple again, but Harry lifted his head in time to capture his lips in a brief, gentle kiss. Sirius started, apparently surprised by the sudden show of affection, but relaxed into it almost at once, and smiled adoringly at Harry as he drew his young husband close and kissed him again.

**7 th July, 2008**

Harry had foolishly thought that it couldn't get any worse than the back pain he'd been suffering from, but he was proven wrong when he had to start taking the Mammary Growth Potion, which would begin the process of having him grow breasts.

His chest _ached_ , and he spent half his time in bed on his side in an effort to take the pressure off both his back and chest simultaneously, which didn't help alleviate the pain as much as Harry had hoped that it would.

It was so bad that Sirius had closed down his shop, _Until Further Notice,_ in order to stay home and help Harry through it, which meant some _very_ strange albeit comforting massages.

 

Harry lay on his side, his face buried in a pillow as he groaned in pain, and he arched into Sirius's hands, which were lightly massaging his chest, aided in part by a sweet-smelling salve that was _supposed_ to help with the dull, twinging ache, but didn't seem to be doing very much of anything.

“Hurts...” Harry mumbled, his voice heavily muffled by the pillow over his face.

“I know, Harry, I'm sorry...” Sirius replied softly, his hands moving continuously against his chest, which had grown incrementally, and at the moment looked more like he'd been stung by a pair of bees than anything else. “Is this helping at all?”

“Still hurts, but feels nice,” Harry answered as he lifted the pillow incrementally from his face to peer at Sirius. “Thank you.”

Sirius leant up to kiss him lightly, and Harry shivered all over as he returned the kiss.

“Once they finish growing, it won't hurt anymore,” Sirius said consolingly as he stroked Harry's cheek, and Harry snorted a little.

“When they finish growing I'll have _tits,_ Sirius,” Harry deadpanned. “Breasts, knockers, yabbos, bazoombas, _the twins,_ whatever the hell you want to call them. I already feel like some sort of freak, and I'll just be stuck inside for the next however-many-months, because I _do not_ want people seeing me like this...”

“It's not forever, Harry, and before the baby comes, we can do a glamour on them if you want, there's these br—erm, _garments_ that have this sort of disillusionment charm on them, but they sometimes make it look like there's a hole in your chest...” Sirius trailed off as he inched up the bed, still facing him, and moved his hand to Harry's back, rubbing gently.

“Why...why just before?” Harry asked, at last lifting the pillow the rest of the way from his face to gaze up at Sirius properly. “Why not after, too?”

“It's a bit trickier when they're...um... _in use_ ,” Sirius explained, and winced.

“Oh... _oh._ ” Harry felt his face tint pink, and he buried his head in his hands. “God, Sirius, I don't know if I can do this...I only ever took care of Hedwig and she...”

Warm hands closed around Harry's wrists, and very gently pried them away from his face. Sirius's smiling face was revealed as he gazed down at him, and slowly he leant in to kiss Harry lightly. He dropped Harry's wrists in favour of placing them on the younger man's waist, drawing him closer, and Harry felt himself melt under Sirius's careful, precise touches.

It took Harry a moment to realize that Sirius had stopped kissing him, and when his eyes flicked back open he saw the older man staring at him with a warm, unabashed smile of adoration upon his face. He moved to stroke Harry's cheek, and he immediately leant into the touch.

“You're not alone, Harry. This marriage, this _having a baby_ business...all of it, it's a partnership. When you think you can't cope, I'm here to help you. This pregnancy part, a lot of it is you, but I'll do everything that I can to help you through it. I don't want you to feel like you're alone in this—you're not. I lo—I care for you, and I don't want you to ever feel like you have to go through this by yourself.”

Harry shifted closer to Sirius and closed his eyes. He pressed his cheek to the side of the older man's chest, and let out a tiny sigh of contentment. Sirius lowered his hands to Harry's waist and held fast to him, his chin propping up on top of Harry's head.

“Thank you, Sirius,” Harry mumbled after a moment of silence, “I—I guess it's sort of obvious how freaked out I am by this whole thing, and the potions...whatever they're doing to me...” he trailed off as a small shudder raced through him, “I feel like...like my body isn't my own anymore, it's this...this baby-making machine, or something.”

“It's only for a little while,” Sirius replied reassuringly as he pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's temple, “after this, you won't have to do it again.”

“But if it's a girl—” Harry began, remembering the archaic fine print of the curse, but Sirius cut him off.

“If it's a girl, _I_ will try for a boy. I won't make you go through all this again, especially when it's obvious how uncomfortable you are about it.”

Harry stared up at his husband following the statement. His tone was firm and self-assured, and Harry felt a flutter somewhere in the pit of his stomach, and his face grew a little warm.

“You'd...you'd do that for me?” he asked, and Sirius responded with a warm smile.

“Of course I would,” Sirius replied before he leant in to kiss Harry again. “I'd do anything for you.”

“Would you have befriended Snape if I had asked you to?” Harry teased, and Sirius snorted.

“Well, all right, I'd do _almost_ anything for you.”


	7. Conception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be March 1st. Enjoy! :)

Chapter Seven – Conception

 

**17 th October, 2008**

 

Despite Sirius's reassurances that things would get better with time, it seemed as though the reverse was more accurate: The more time that passed, the more Harry felt like a _freak._

True to his word, Sirius had picked up the special _garments_ (Harry was wholly incapable of referring to them as _bras_ , or over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders, as Ron teasingly called them) and even though they hid his newly-acquired body parts from the world, _he_ still knew that they were there. Sirius was doing his best to comfort Harry throughout it all, but the mollycoddling wasn't making Harry feel any better about his _breasts_ , or the back pain, or the mood swings, or the truly awful abdominal cramps.

“It's only temporary,” Sirius had said on numerous occasions, “then everything will go back to normal. I know it's awful for you, but it's just once, and you'll never have to do it again.”

“That's not as comforting as you think it is, Sirius,” Harry would mumble every time, and his husband would fell silent. No matter what Sirius did, even during holidays and milestones, Harry was either unable or just _barely_ capable of pulling it together for the benefit of his friends and family.

 

~*~

 

_At his birthday, he'd been too sore and cranky to celebrate, and though his friends and family had sent along gifts as per usual, Harry refused to see them in his state. He and Sirius had had another explosive argument that ended with Sirius stomping off to see Andromeda (or so he said) and Harry had spent his birthday alone._

 

_~*~_

 

_A month after that, Teddy was due to start Hogwarts. Sirius had guilted Harry out of the house, and in place of a magical garment, Harry had donned three very tight compression shirts and an old jumper of Dudley's to conceal his bodily changes. In truth, his chest had not gotten very big, and really it looked more like he'd put on some weight than anything else, but it still felt to Harry like he'd grown a pair the size of flotation devices._

_Harry had deliberately stalled leaving the house until the last possible moment, and their time on Platform 9¾ lasted less than ten minutes, with Harry promising to see Teddy soon, and telling him to come over for tea that coming Friday afternoon._

“ _You look fine, Harry,” Sirius had told him softly as they watched Teddy wave at them from the moving train, “you're always beautiful to me.”_

“ _Not helping, Sirius,” Harry mumbled as he crossed his arms self-consciously across his chest, and his face flamed red._

 

_~*~_

 

Every day, week, and month that passed felt the same, and now he was far enough along in his 'transformation' that they were ready for the next step—conception.

 

“Are you ready for this, Harry?” Sirius asked, and Harry gazed up at him from his sprawled-out position on their bed. His eyes immediately fell to the empty glass vial in the older man's hand, and his head spun as a wave of nervous energy washed over him.

“Not really, but does that even matter?” he asked miserably, and he watched as Sirius's mouth twitched into a frown. With a heavy sigh, he eased down onto the bed next to his husband as he set down the vial back on the night table before he cradled Harry's chin in his hand and he guided him into a gentle kiss.

Harry returned it readily, and let out a gentle sigh of contentment when Sirius drew him into a close embrace.

“It matters,” Sirius said firmly as he held him, “it _absolutely_ matters. Harry, I know in the grand scheme of things we don't have a lot of choices here, but if you don't feel ready, we can wait a little longer.”

“I don't know if I'll _ever_ be ready,” Harry muttered, and pressed closer to Sirius. “What if—what if we do this thing and I'm a rubbish parent? You and I both had rubbish upbringings, what if we're just... _rubbish_ at the whole thing?”

“Well, your dad raised me and I turned out all right,” Sirius teased, and Harry snorted. The older man's large hand moved to Harry's hair, stroking it idly as he pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Look, Harry, I know _utter shite_ doesn't even begin to cover what your childhood was like, but you are not those people. You're one of the kindest, most selfless people I have ever met, and you're _brilliant_ with Teddy. What makes you think you'd be a bad dad?”

“Just a general feeling of _doom and gloom_ ,” Harry mumbled as he tried to snuggle closer to Sirius. “Every time I get hold of something good, it just...falls apart. How do we know it won't happen this time too?”

Sirius didn't answer straight away, and it took Harry a moment to realize that he had gone completely still. Harry adjusted his position and gazed up at his husband, who seemed to be staring off into space with a look of wide-eyed shock on his face.

“Sirius?” Harry prompted in a small voice, “are you all right?”

“This marriage...you qualify that as something... _good_?” Sirius asked uncertainly, and Harry blinked, it clicking in his mind what he had just said.

“Oh, well... _yeah_ ,” Harry replied, his mouth twitching into a grin as he shuffled up higher to kiss Sirius lightly. “I mean, maybe when it started out it was awkward for both of us, but now...I mean aside from our occasional epic arguments, this is a good thing we have going. I don't want to lose it.”

Harry started slightly when Sirius's eyes became rather shiny, and his face split into a watery smile. He had barely begun to wonder what he'd done to upset his husband when Sirius pulled him in for a tender kiss.

Warm, wet droplets hit Harry's shoulder as they kissed, and he reached up to brush away the tears streaking Sirius's cheeks.

“Sorry...” Harry murmured when they broke for air, and Sirius backed up a little, his eyes still a little red, while his brow furrowed with confusion.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Well...I made you cry,” Harry replied with a small frown, “I didn't mean to make you cry.” Harry opened his mouth to apologize again, but he was cut off by Sirius's warm, amused chuckle, and Harry took his turn in being utterly confused by the reaction. “What?”

“Happy tears, you twit,” Sirius explained with a laugh, and pulled Harry into another close embrace. “I'm just...I never thought I'd be able to make you happy with this, and I just...I'm _so_ happy right now.”

Harry leant up to kiss him, and Sirius wrapped his arms around him tightly as he returned the kiss. Harry buried his fingers in Sirius's long thick locks, and revelled in the way they tumbled through his fingers like strands of silk. He did not miss the almost desperate way Sirius held onto him, as though afraid he might suddenly vanish if he let go.

“Okay,” Harry murmured after a moment, “let's—let's do this.”

“Are you _sure_ , Harry?” Sirius asked seriously, while he continually stroked Harry's hair. “Once we do this, there's no going back.”

In truth, Harry wasn't sure; he was _far_ from sure. The whole thing terrified him, he was stuck in a strange, uncomfortable version of his body that he genuinely _hated_ , and once it was all over, there would be a _baby_.

At the same time however, despite his massively long list of reservations and fears, when he looked at Sirius, he felt an overwhelming sense of calm wash over him. He knew beyond any doubt that Sirius would help him through this in every way he could, just as he had during the courtship.

Harry nodded.

Sirius's face was set, and he picked up the vial again. Harry felt his stomach turn over nervously as he watched Sirius unstopper it, then with his opposite hand, he tugged down the zip of Harry's jeans, and extracted his flaccid cock.

Harry watched silently as Sirius began to stroke him, using a quick lubrication charm to keep him from chafing, and slowly, his cock grew hard under Sirius's talented hand. His breathing hitched, and Sirius bowed forward to kiss him lightly while his hand continued to move.

“Remember,” Sirius murmured, “you need to tell me when you're close.”

Harry nodded weakly, and whimpered as he arched into Sirius's touch, his breath escaping him in short gasps as Sirius stayed focused on the task at hand. Soon, Harry felt that telltale tickle that indicated that he was getting close.

“Sirius...” Harry whimpered, and his husband nodded, bringing the vial to rest at the tip of his cock. With a few more sure strokes Harry came with a hiss, and he watched with morbid fascination as his sperm ejaculated into the little tube.

Sirius lifted the vial from its place, and reached for the bag of remaining potions on the night table. He withdrew a clear electric blue one, and added it to Harry's sperm. Immediately the concoction began to hiss and foam, and within seconds his sperm had gone and all that remained was the blue potion, and at the very bottom of the vial, the tiniest speck imaginable, as thick as a strand of hair—an _egg_.

“What—what if this doesn't work?” Harry asked uncertainly, and watched as Sirius picked up his wand from the night table, and shifted back over to Harry.

“You know that old muggle saying,” Sirius said teasingly as he gently pushed up Harry's T-shirt, “if at first you don't succeed...” he trailed off and arched his eyebrows. Instead of completing the adage, Harry nodded meekly in understanding before Sirius asked, “you ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Harry replied as evenly as he could, though his voice still shook a little. “Let's do it.”

Sirius nodded once, and with a slow, steadying breath, he tapped the vial once, then pressed the tip of his wand to Harry's stomach. He felt his flesh tingle unpleasantly, and watched with morbid fascination as Sirius upended the vial, pressing the lip of it firmly against Harry's skin.

The blue liquid was cold as it rested against Harry's stomach, and he followed the progression of the tiny egg as the potion sank into Harry's skin and disappeared, like a draining sink. It was relatively painless—that is, until the egg sank into Harry's flesh, and he felt his abdominal muscles seize.

Harry's eyes widened as pain lanced through him, and he grappled for Sirius. The older man wrapped an arm around him while he held the vial still on his stomach, and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead.

“Shh, it's all right, Harry, just breathe, it's almost over, come on, relax...” Sirius murmured, holding him firmly, but gently, and Harry blinked, pained tears coming to his eyes and trickling into his hair as Sirius held him and tried to reassure him through the pain.

Slowly, after what felt like hours to Harry, the pain began to recede to a low thrum in the small of his back. Sirius removed the vial, and nothing remained in the spot on his stomach, save a circular indent where the vial had been pressed into his skin. Distantly, he heard the soft clatter of Sirius discarding the vial, and an instant later he was drawn into his husband's warm embrace.

“How do you feel?” Sirius asked as he rubbed his back, and Harry buried his face in the older man's chest with an audible groan.

“Like a teeny tiny wizard climbed into my arsehole and cast _Sectumsempra_ on my insides.”

“That sounds pleasant,” Sirius remarked with a soft chuckle, and Harry answered with another small moan of pain. Sirius continued to massage his back, and Harry tried to bury his face further into Sirius's chest. The smell of him—his overpriced cologne, the distinct tang of cigarette smoke, and the smell that was simply _Sirius_ filled Harry with a sense of calm. He breathed it in as Sirius continued to speak, his low voice washing over Harry like some sort of healing potion.

“We have two days to...well, _do it_ before the egg is no good and we need to start over,” Sirius said gently, “so if you don't feel up to it tonight, we have a bit of time.”

“Whether we do this in ten minutes or twenty-four hours, at the end of it there'll be a _baby,”_ Harry mumbled, his voice shaking a little. He clenched his eyes shut in an effort to hide his fear from Sirius, but something in the way he went rigid told Harry that his husband could likely sense it.

“And I will be with you every single step of the way, Harry,” Sirius murmured gently as he pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead. “Whenever you feel like you can't cope with things, I'll be right there to be your strength. You know that, right?”

“I'm not used to that...people have always relied on _me,_ not the other way round,” he replied in the same soft, nervous tone, and Sirius kissed his forehead again.

“You've done your job, you've paid your dues,” Sirius said gently, “you have nothing left to worry about. I'll do everything for you for the next nine months.”

Harry grimaced at the concept, and he found himself grateful that Sirius could not see his face at that moment. The idea of letting someone else take care of him was a strange one, and something he was completely unused to. He didn't like the idea of it; did Sirius think he was _weak_? Did he think Harry was completely incapable of being a parent? That he couldn't handle it?

Harry came up with no answers, and instead lay there, allowing himself to be held, while Sirius continued to murmur soft words of comfort to him, continually rubbing his back and banishing the pain away.

 

Harry was uncertain how much time had passed, but slowly the pain faded, and he wormed his way up to face Sirius. The older man's lips were parted in question, his eyes widened slightly, and after the briefest moment of hesitation, Harry leant forward and kissed him.

Sirius responded to the show of affection immediately, and wrapped his arms securely around Harry's waist as he kissed him back. Harry reached up to stroke the older man's cheek, and as he pulled back, he made sure he could completely see Sirius's face when he spoke next.

“Let's make a baby.”

Harry had never quite known how sentimental Sirius was until well into their marriage, and it came as no surprise to him now when the words had the expected effect, and the older man's eyes became distinctly glassy.

Sirius bowed over Harry and kissed him hard. Harry returned the kiss with equal fervour, his arms lifting to wrap around his husband's neck and hold him close. Sirius's hands slid down to Harry's waist, cradling him as gently as a precious, fragile artifact.

Slowly, the couple properly disrobed. Sirius shed his shirt while Harry wormed out of his jeans and pants. Sirius reached out to peel Harry from his T-shirt, and Harry slid his hands into the older man's trousers, giving his arse a quick squeeze before he removed the garment, and revelled in the groan of pleasure that Sirius elicited.

Sirius sat up to properly kick his trousers and briefs off, then blanketed Harry with his body again.

“Oh, Harry...” Sirius murmured between kisses, “I've wanted to hear you say that for _so long..._ ”

Harry felt a lump of emotion settle in his throat as he clung desperately to his husband and returned the kisses. Fear, joy, blinding terror, they all intermingled into a single incomprehensible _thing_ in his mind. Harry genuinely had no idea if he was ready for this—if he'd _ever_ be ready, but so too did he know that Sirius would not break his promise. He would be there for him, and lift him up and carry him until he found his feet again.

With Sirius, he knew that he could, in fact, do this.

Sirius's large hands mapped out Harry's skinnier body. He felt almost fragile beneath the older man, with his broad shoulders and well-defined muscles and his sporadic body hair that Harry had never worked out whether he sculpted or not, and his beautiful tattoos, it was all too much. He keened as he arched into the touch, feeling as though he might burst from the overwhelm of sensation.

At last, Sirius's hands found Harry's cock, and his hips jerked weakly as he began to stroke the half-hard organ.

“Sirius...” Harry whimpered, and drew Sirius back to him for another intoxicating kiss. “Sirius, _please_...”

“Tell me what you want, Harry,” Sirius murmured, offering his cock a small squeeze, and Harry whimpered as his hips twitched skyward.

“You, I want _you,”_ Harry murmured, “ _please..._ ”

That seemed to be all the assent that Sirius needed, and with another deep, open-mouthed kiss, he reached for the side table, where the lubricant was sitting.

The sweet scent of rose filled the air as Sirius unscrewed the lid and dipped his fingers into the pink-tinged gel. Harry shifted into a better position and opened his legs for Sirius, his heart in his throat. His thrumming arousal eclipsed his fear, and the last remnants of it were quieted by the reassuring thought that Harry knew that Sirius would help him through this, and they would make it out the other side together—as a family.

The word _family_ filled Harry with a strange sense of want, and he had a feeling that it wasn't just from the potions he'd been taking.

Sirius's deliciously talented fingers breached his hole, and Harry groaned as he clenched around them. Sirius inhaled sharply, and planted a kiss to his sternum, careful to not touch Harry's newest bodily acquisition as he did so. They were sensitive, and they felt wonderful when they were touched, but Harry could not abide it. His mind repelled the touch, and Sirius seemed to know that drawing attention to them now would do nothing but kill the mood.

Sirius scissored him, stretching Harry adequately, but just on the side of not enough, which Harry was fine with—he always liked a little pain with his pleasure. Sirius retracted his fingers, slicked up his cock, and positioned himself at Harry's entrance. He levelled his eyes with Harry's, and stormy grey met green. In the silence, Harry could feel the nonverbal request—his last chance to back out and wait another day.

Instead, Harry arched up and kissed him.

Sirius let out a soft groan, returning the kiss as he sank into Harry's prepared hole. Their mouths were a mess of tongues tasting each other, teeth clacking together, and hot breath escaping in short pants as Sirius hilted himself inside his young husband, and paused momentarily to allow him to acclimate to the now-familiar sensation.

Harry locked his ankles at the small of Sirius's back, holding the older man in place. Sirius seemed to tremble all over from this simple sensation, and with another small groan, he captured Harry's mouth with his own again.

“Harry...” he moaned his name as he began to rock his hips, and Harry responded with another moan as he clenched around his husband, eliciting another pleasure-filled vocalization from him.

As they moved, their breathing slowly became more haggard. Harry rocked his hips in time with Sirius's gentle thrusts, his arms falling back to rest lazily above his head, his eyes never straying from the older man. Sirius shone with sweat, and a jumble of exclamations poured from his mouth as he moved.

_Sweet Merlin,_ and _fuck, yes..._ and _Gods, more, more..._ all bled together, and Harry struggled to pick one curse out of the others.

Sirius's pace picked up, and he whimpered as his fingers dug into Harry's hips, and Harry's heartbeat tripled.

_This is it._

Sirius whimpered, his body stiffening as he came, and an instant later he slumped down over Harry, breathing hard.

Harry's momentary panic successfully wilted his erection, and as Sirius pulled out and came back to himself, Harry flicked his wand as subtly as could, conjuring a few white spots upon his abdomen to simulate cum.

Thankfully, Sirius did not seem to notice the difference as he vanished Harry's mess and cleaned himself up before he settled down next to his young husband.

Harry rolled over and kissed Sirius. He returned it tenderly, holding him gently. The embrace was calming, and Harry revelled in it, a small way to hide how terrified he was. With how uncertain his future had suddenly become, the idea that he might be a dad in nine months was both exciting and terrifying all at once. He did not want Sirius to know how deeply afraid he was; this wasn't his fault that they were shunted into this before he was fully ready, and privately he hoped that he would be able to fix his mental headspace before the baby came.

“How soon will we know?” Harry asked softly as they broke the kiss, and he slumped down against the bed. Sirius settled down next to him and splayed his hand across Harry's flat abdomen, holding him tenderly.

“We can check in a fortnight, that's the earliest, I think. I can make the appointment with the Healer, if you want.”

“Please,” Harry said with a small nod.

“All right, I'll contact Healer Singh tomorrow and get the appointment set,” Sirius replied softly as he moved his hand away from Harry's stomach, tugged the duvet over them, wrapped his arm securely around Harry's waist, and spooned himself around his husband.

Sirius was quick to drop off, but Harry lay awake a while longer, staring into the darkness blankly as he thought about what had just occurred.

Harry's hand moved to run over his stomach; he managed only the briefest brush of his fingertips before he lost his nerve and jerked his hand away.

As Harry stared down at his flat belly, even without seeing the Healer, Harry knew.

He was _pregnant._

 


	8. The Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be March 15th. Enjoy :)

Chapter Eight – The Gift

 

**3 rd November, 2008**

 

Harry and Sirius sat in the waiting room of the Maternity Ward at St Mungo's, their fingers twined together nervously. Around them, Harry could see that their area of the ward was fairly quiet, save for one other couple opposite them. Harry tried keep from staring; the man on the right was very visibly pregnant, and though he looked far from distressed by it, the sight was a stark reminder to Harry of what _he_ would look like in just nine months. He shivered involuntarily.

“You okay?” Sirius murmured as he ran his hand up and down Harry's back, and he nodded a little.

“Fine,” Harry mumbled, “just nervous.”

As if on cue, a trainee healer stepped out of one of the adjacent hallways, and offered the couple a warm smile.

“Healer Singh will see you now,” she said kindly, “this way.”

His knees quaking, Harry nervously got to his feet. Sirius immediately put an arm around him to keep him steady, but did not say a word while he brushed his lips against Harry's temple in silent reassurance.

Despite his unease, Harry felt himself calm down a little at the gentle, familiar touch. While he all but clung to Sirius, Harry followed his lead away from the waiting room and into the examination area.

 

~*~

 

It looked exactly as Harry remembered, with the leather seats next to a desk, and an examination table across the room. Healer Singh had not yet entered the room, and Harry nearly collapsed into one of the available chairs, his face in his hands.

Repeated phrases danced through Harry's mind as though they were taunting him, and he let out a tiny groan. He thought of verbalizing some of the thoughts, but Sirius had heard it all before—dozens of times. Repeating _I'm scared,_ or _I don't know if I can do this_ , seemed like a waste, and instead he sat silently, while his husband sat at his side, and moved to rub his back gently and encouragingly. Harry welcomed the gentle touch, and he felt some of his courage return.

The sound of a door opening caused Harry's head to snap up, and he spotted Healer Singh stepping into the room with a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning, Mr Potter-Black, and Mr Potter-Black,” she said warmly as she took Harry's file and set it down on her desk, flipped it open, and looked up at Harry. “What brings you in today?”

“We...er, finished using the potions,” Harry said awkwardly, and dropped his gaze to his stomach, still flat as a plank.

_But not for long_ , Harry thought with another thrill of panic.

“We came in to see if they've worked,” Sirius continued for Harry, his arm tightening around his young husband in quiet reassurance.

“Ah, well, this'll take not a moment,” the Healer said as she stood up, moving over to the examination table, and she patted it lightly. “Come along, Harry, hop up.”

With Sirius's help, Harry stood on shaky legs, and he led the younger man over to the table. If the Healer found this at all odd she did not comment on it, and kept quiet as Sirius stepped to the side enough to give her room to work, but still kept a hand on Harry's back as Healer Singh rolled up Harry's jumper and T-shirt enough to expose his bare abdomen, and rested the tip of her wand against his skin.

The wood was cold, and Harry stared down at it bemusedly as the Healer whispered under her breath, an incantation too soft for Harry to hear what it was.

Almost immediately the tip of her wand illuminated, a pure white light that flickered for a moment before it turned a bright, vibrant green.

_It worked._

“Congratulations, gentlemen,” Healer Singh said as she straightened up and smiled warmly at them. “Nine months from now, you two will be fathers.”

Sirius broke into a wide, joyous smile, and he pulled Harry into a tight embrace. He kissed him deeply, and Harry squeaked in surprise in the force of the kiss as he brought up a hand to the centre of his husband's chest, uncertain whether he wanted to push Sirius away or draw him closer.

“Don't worry, Harry,” Sirius whispered softly, “I'll take care of _everything_.”

Harry nodded a little, knowing that he meant well, though he couldn't help but feel distinctly put-out by that single phrase.

“Now, gentlemen, a few ground rules,” Healer Singh said sternly, drawing their attention back to her.

“As you have been told, male pregnancy is _much_ more delicate than a normal pregnancy, meaning that you, Harry, you're an indoor kitty now. No heavy lifting—nothing over five pounds—no Floo, Portkey, or broom travel, no long-distance walking, no intensive exercise, if you have a cat, no cleaning the cat box, no alcohol, no raw fish or meat, no caffeine...”

“Want to throw in a little foot binding while you're at it?” Harry asked sourly, and both Sirius and the Healer frowned a him.

“This is _not_ a joke, Mr Potter-Black,” Healer Singh said sternly, “upwards of sixty percent of men lose their children in the first trimester from not listening to our instructions. Do you _want_ to lose this baby?”

“No...”

“Then I beg you to swallow your sarcasm and _listen_ to me,” she said, and Harry nodded sullenly.

The list went on and on. It seemed as though he'd been condemned to nine months of boredom, if the laundry list of things he wasn't allowed to do was any indication. He tried to not let his misery at this prospect show on his face, but if the Healer's and Sirius's expressions were any indication, he hadn't entirely managed it.

“And I warn you now,” Healer Singh concluded, a warning finger pointed at Harry, “do _not_ ignore these instructions. Any added stress on your body will lead to a miscarriage, or at the very least extended bed rest, which, I gather, you would _not_ enjoy.”

Harry crossed his arms and nodded, and Healer Singh smiled warmly at him.

“Good. Now,” she turned to Sirius. “Mr Potter-Black, if you want to go speak to the welcomewitch, she can help you arrange to loan a Vanishing Cabinet to you two for the course of your husband's pregnancy, and she can get you a copy of all the information of Harry's no-nos for the next nine months. I just need to speak to your husband privately for a moment.”

“Oh, erm, all right,” Sirius replied, appearing a little startled by the abrupt dismissal. He turned to Harry and kissed him lightly, then allowed himself to be ushered out of the room by the Healer.

Harry watched, his brow knitted in confusion as she stood at the door and watched her watch Sirius, until at last she shut the door and turned around. She looked much more serious than before, and Harry's lips quirked into a confused frown.

“Is...something wrong?” Harry asked uncertainly, he shifting awkwardly in place as he gazed back at her.

“I was going to ask you the same thing, Mr Potter- _Black_ ,” she said, her voice a little more cutting than Harry would have expected it to be. “I am going to ask you a question, and I beg that you be honest with me, all right?”

Utterly perplexed, Harry nodded.

“Did your husband force you into this? Do you actually _want_ this baby?”

“ _What_?” Harry sputtered, his eyes widening in shock. “Where on _earth_ did you get a mad idea like _that_?”

“I just informed you that you are an expectant parent, and you hardly reacted,” Healer Singh said, her voice on the side of accusing as she spoke. “In fact, you looked more like you were trying to hide your fear at the idea that you're with child instead of bursting with joy as most are. So, I ask again— _did your husband force you into this?_ ”

“No, he didn't,” Harry answered at once, his voice cold with warning, but the Healer did not appear intimidated by his tone. “Our marriage is just a bit... _complicated_.”

“Many marriages are complicated, Mr Potter-Black, it does not always involve pressure to have children,” Healer Singh said, and Harry frowned.

“Do you know anything about my marriage, or just what the _Daily Prophet_ spreads about me?” Harry asked, his tone icy, but once more the Healer did not seem to be unsettled by it. At the question, she blinked with confusion.

“I am not interested in gossip, Mr Potter-Black,” she replied in a similar cold tone, and Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. _This might take a while._

“Well, if you _had_ followed the gossip columns—and read between the lines of Rita Skeeter's bollocks—you'd know that I'm in an _arranged_ marriage,” Harry said, and understanding began to dawn on her face. Harry continued before she could interject, however. “After we married—three years ago, mind you—we would have five years to produce a child, or the curse that pushed us together to begin with would act up, and hurt us. Sirius figured it would make a clean end if we started now. I agreed, after a fashion, and here we are.”

“Be that as it may,” the Healer continued, “do you genuinely _want_ this child, Mr Potter-Black? Regardless who pushed you into this, you were _indeed_ pushed, and if you are uncertain now, once the baby comes, will you be able to accept it? You are scared of parenthood—I can see it, don't deny it—how do you think your husband will react if you reject your baby?”

Harry's eyes widened in shock. How could this woman even _suggest_ such a thing?

“I'd _never_ do that!” Harry sputtered angrily, “reject my child? No. Like my relationship with Sirius, it's a learning curve. I may have not wanted it so soon, but now that I have it, I will fight to keep it.”

Harry glared at the Healer, and the Healer frowned at him, her gaze calculating, as though trying to x-ray Harry with her eyes, to determine whether or not he was stretching the truth.

At last, her expression relaxed into a friendly smile.

“All right, Mr Potter-Black, I believe you,” she paused and held up a hand when Harry began to relax, causing him to freeze. “ _But_ if you begin to feel depressed or otherwise overwhelmed, either by the pregnancy itself, or prospective fatherhood, I would like you to come and see me, or a Mind Healer. Do you understand?”

Having expected another protest, Harry sagged with relief at her words.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I understand.”

 

~*~

 

Outside the examination room, Harry found Sirius sitting and reading a copy of _Witch Weekly_ upside-down, and the welcomewitch looked distinctly irritated about something.

“Hey,” Harry said as he made it over to his husband, and took Sirius's hand to get his attention. “I'm all done.”

Sirius smiled warmly, looking suddenly very relieved, and tossed aside the magazine as he jumped to his feet.

“Everything all right?” he asked as he laced his fingers with Harry's. His free hand was holding onto a thick booklet that Harry guessed was a copy of his pregnancy instructions, and he began to lead Harry towards the exit.

“Fine,” Harry replied, but it did not appear as though Sirius believed him. “No, really, me and the Healer just had a...misunderstanding.”

“Dare I ask what kind?” Sirius asked as he led Harry away from the general hospital exit, and towards a side-door that read _Maternity_. He chuckled a little when Harry scowled at the special exit he apparently had to use, but did not offer up any sort of protest as they entered a room that looked more like the cabinets section at a furniture shop than part of a hospital.

A long line of cabinets stood against the wall, interspersed with stands bearing quills and long rolls of narrow parchment. Each cabinet also bore a thin slot in the right-side door, very much like a debit card slot on an ATM machine.

“Nothing really _bad_ -bad,” Harry replied conversationally as Sirius let go of his hand and move over to one of the stands. “She just assumed that you pressured me to do all this, like in an abusive way. I corrected her right away, but I'm not sure she completely believed me.”

Sirius did not immediately answer, busy as he was scribbling something onto a piece of the parchment before he tore it off and fed it into the slot. He took Harry's hand again, but when he turned, he felt himself go cold at the guilty look on Sirius's face. Harry dug in his heels, stopping him short.

“You know that, right, Sirius?” Harry asked, his tone jumping up a little in his panic. “You _didn't_ push me into this.”

Instead of answering, Sirius smiled at him a little sadly, tugged him in for a quick kiss, then led him into the cabinet.

 

Harry felt more than a little guilty as they stepped out of the cabinet in their sitting room, while Sirius explained to Harry how the thing worked for when he wanted to visit his friends. He half-listened, his hand falling to his abdomen as Sirius talked. He could see his husband's confused, warring emotions register on his face as he spoke--Sirius was over the moon about the idea of being a dad in just nine months, but Harry could also see guilt registering on his face, the anguish at his realization that Harry was still not wholly ready to be a parent. Harry felt his insides twist with misery—it would seem that when it came to mucking up Sirius's birthdays, Harry had become something of an expert.

“Come on,” Harry said with a small smile as he cut across Sirius's nervous babbling. “Some birthday lunch, I think, is what you need after this morning.”

Harry took Sirius's hand and led him to the kitchen. He pushed the older man down into the chair next to the tiny kitchen table, which had more or less become _Sirius's spot_ for when he wished to keep Harry company while he cooked.

“What d'you feel like?” Harry asked conversationally as he moved over to the cabinets, and peered inside. “I could do sandwiches and soup, or shepherd's pie if you want something hot, or—”

“Just something simple, Harry,” Sirius replied with a chuckle, “you don't need to make a big fuss over me.”

“Oh yes, I do,” Harry countered as he peeked out from behind the cabinet door and offered his husband a small smile. “The next few months are going to be stressful as hell, and you deserve to feel like a princess on your birthday.”

“ _Princess_?” Sirius demanded with a laugh, “not a _prince_?”

“Definitely a princess,” Harry replied, and grinned. “High maintenance, disturbingly obsessed with your hair, infuriating to shop with because you spend _hours_ in the robes and clothes shops...yeah, definitely a princess.”

“Well, if I'm a _princess_ ,” Sirius said with a laugh, “don't I get a tiara? All princesses get tiaras.”

“Could you settle for a paper crown?”

“Princesses do not accept such plebeian materials for their tiaras as _paper_ , husband of mine,” Sirius replied as he flicked his wand and summoned a few silver spoons from the cutlery drawer. Harry watched with an amused smile as Sirius tapped the spoons and they floated in the air for a moment before they melted into a blob of molten silver, and reformed into an elegant tiara, which the older man promptly fitted onto his head. Most curiously, it did not look nearly as silly as Harry expected it to, and on the contrary, seemed to suit him.

“How's it look?” Sirius asked with a remarkably silly grin, and Harry chuckled as he abandoned his lunch duties to sit in his husband's lap and offer him a kiss.

“Adorable,” Harry replied, and laughed when Sirius offered him another grin. “Now, come on, tell me what you want to eat.”

Sirius arched a suggestive eyebrow, and Harry rolled his eyes as he gave up on getting a real answer out of Sirius, and with a reluctant groan, he got up and headed back over to the cupboards to fix them some lunch.

 

~*~

 

After a simple meal of some roast beef sandwiches and a butterbeer for Sirius (while Harry grudgingly swapped his own butterbeer for lemon water, following Sirius's stern look) they whiled away the afternoon together, going for a walk though the Hogsmeade High Street, shopping at Honeydukes and Zonko's like they were students again, and as they returned in the early evening for Harry to make dinner. All the while, Harry felt as though there was some sort of dark creature hovering at the back of his mind as he thought of the birthday gift he's gotten for Sirius. It was not as risqué as their anniversary gifts had been, but Harry still had no idea if Sirius would understand why Harry had gotten it for him, or indeed if he would appreciate it at all, considering their situation.

The nervousness stayed with him all throughout the lamb dinner and subsequent pudding of rich birthday cake and homemade ice-cream, until Harry bit his lip and went to get the gift from its hiding place.

Sirius eyed him quizzically as he returned from the bedroom with the rectangular parcel in his hands, wrapped neatly in bright red paper.

“Erm,” Harry began as he sat down next to his husband upon the sofa, but his voice fizzled out, and he cleared his throat once before trying again. “I know our situation is a little...er, _complex_ , to say the least, but, Sirius, I know how much you want this, and despite my nerves about everything, I don't want you to miss out on any of the fun pre-parenthood things we can do, so...” Harry trailed off, and offered up the gift, certain that his face was as red as the paper.

Sirius blinked bemusedly at the explanation as he accepted the gift, but instead of asking what Harry meant, he turned his attention to the parcel, and quickly ripped off the paper. Harry bit his lip nervously when Sirius gasped sharply with surprise.

“ _Daddy and Daddy's Baby Album_ ,” Sirius read out softly, “ _From Conception to First Steps._ ” He opened it, and began to flip through the blank pages, his eyes wide with shock. Every page held boxes and lines to fill in with writing or photographs, including expected delivery date, days of appointments with Healers, and places to include photographs and Birth Image sketches (which, Harry had learnt, was the wizarding equivalent of an ultrasound).

Sirius turned through every page, his eyes wide and shining, his fingers brushing over the parchment reverently, not unlike how Harry had reacted some years before when he'd been gifted with the album of letters from his parents. He seemed to forget Harry was even there, and when he did finally look up, the expression of shock and disbelief still had not left his face.

“Thank you, Harry,” Sirius murmured, and Harry offered him a warm smile.

 


	9. Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be March 29th. Enjoy :)

Chapter Nine – Hands

 

**19 th November, 2008**

For the first few weeks of the pregnancy, not much changed for Harry. They noted important healer's appointments on their calendar, Sirius filled in what he could of his new book, and he obsessively watched what Harry ate (and threatened to padlock the cabinets if he went for the non-decaf coffee again) but bodily, Harry felt no different. It had barely been a month, after all, and it was still too soon for most of the fun side effects he'd read about to make themselves known yet.

More confusing and awkward still was the act of telling their friends and family about their impending _bundle of joy._ Harry had practised looking the part of a normal expectant parent in the mirror so as to not have a repeat of what occurred at the hospital, and as a result only Teddy and Hermione had anything negative to say about it.

 

~*~

 

_“You're going to give the baby my room, aren't you?” Teddy whined during one of his weekend visits with Sirius, Harry, and Andromeda. Sirius snorted._

_“Yep, sorry, Ted,” Sirius replied with a grin. “We're going to paint it_ bright _yellow, and fill it with toys, and a crib, and—”_

_“—but where will_ I _sleep when I want to spend the night?” Teddy demanded, and Andromeda (thankfully) stepped in before it could turn into a full-blown meltdown._

_“Theodore Remus Lupin, you stop that right now,” she said sternly. “You are acting like a selfish little brat, you know better. Of course your room here will be converted into a nursery, but it would not take much to add on another guest room to the house.”_

_“Oh.” Teddy turned back to Harry and Sirius. “Really?”_

_“Of course,” Harry said with a small chuckle, “don't you remember what I told you when Sirius and I  first got engaged?_ No one _could replace you, Teddy.”_

~*~

 

_“Harry?” Hermione had asked when they'd relayed the news to Ron and Hermione, as well as the rest of the Weasleys. “I know I told you to be sure that you wanted it before you went forward with it, but you don't exactly_ look _very sure...”_

_“It's...complicated, Hermione,” Harry said as he brushed a hand over his flat stomach. His chest (Harry was still completely incapable of referring to them as his_ breasts _) was hidden behind a strong glamour, and Molly was excitedly gibbering about the new baby with Sirius while Harry and his friends talked quietly. “I want it too, I've_ always _wanted a family, but I never expected it to come about like this. It's just sort of hard to push past my fear and just be excited, you know?”_

_“I know,” she replied, and smiled at him a little. “Just...be careful. I don't mean just because the pregnancy itself is delicate, I just mean...be good to yourself. I know it feels weird,_ believe me _, I know, but if you_ really _want it, it will be worth it.”_

~*~

“If I really want it, it'll be worth it...” Harry repeated to himself, his hand brushing lightly over his flat stomach as he stared out at the heavy sleet that had been falling on Hogsmeade all afternoon.

_Hard to believe._

Harry lifted his herbal tea to his lips, and grimaced a little. It didn't taste bad, but it certainly wasn't as comforting as a regular cuppa would have been as he mulled over his thoughts. He hated the indecision and the lack of excitement he felt for the child that was supposedly growing in his belly at that very moment. Wasn't this the sort of thing he was _supposed_ to be excited about?

The sound of the kitchen door opening and closing drew Harry's attention away from his thoughts, and he smiled as he watched his husband let himself in, sopping wet despite the cloak he'd been wearing, and Sirius used a number of drying charms on himself as he wandered farther inside.

“You're dripping everywhere, Sirius,” Harry teased from his spot by the fire, “how many times have I asked you to do your drying charms _at_ the door?”

“Sorry, dear,” Sirius teased right back, and grinned when Harry flushed a little at the pet name. He finished drying off, and moved to join Harry on the sofa, an arm looping around Harry's shoulders as he leant in to peck his lips lightly. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, same,” Harry replied with a vague shrug, “I still don't feel any different...is it really in there?”

Harry dropped his gaze to his abdomen, and brushed his fingers over the flat muscle. It was still weird to imagine a tiny person inside of him, and despite all the activity surrounding him, it still didn't feel exactly _real_ to him.

“It's in there,” Sirius reassured him as he kissed Harry's cheek and rested his hand over his husband's, pressing both limbs gently against his stomach. “We're due to go back for a checkup soon, and we'll be able to see them with a Birth Image Charm.”

“Is it weird that I don't find that very reassuring?” Harry asked, “I mean, what if the healer does that charm-thing, and they can't find it?”

“It...” Sirius trailed off, and Harry squirmed uncomfortably at the look of anguish that flooded his husband's features. “...It means you've miscarried,” He explained, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “If that happens, we'll need to do it again...when you feel ready, that is.”

Harry felt his stomach flip-flop nervously; the word _miscarriage_ when applied to himself was strange and agonizing at the same time. His fingers tensed against the fabric of his T-shirt, and he shifted closer to Sirius almost unconsciously.

“It'll be okay, right? I don't want to mess this up...”

“There's nothing _to_ mess up, Harry,” Sirius reassured him while he pulled him closer. “A lot of this is outside of our control. It's all nature. We do what we can to help it along, but in the end, it's all...natural.”

“From amount of potions I took to make this happen, it's hardly _natural_ ,” Harry pointed out. “Least it can do is stay put and not die on me.”

“We can do it,” Sirius reassured him gently, “and we'll be amazing parents, just you wait and see.”

“I hope so,” Harry mumbled as he rested his head against Sirius's shoulder with a soft sigh, “I just can't get these bad images out of my head of me mucking it all up...”

“Mucking it up how?”

“Like...not being able to love it like I should, or...or...doing something we missed, like...I don't know, drinking coffee by accident, or inhaling your second hand smoke...or, I don't know, _something_.”

“I haven't been smoking in the house, and I threatened to hex you if you went for the non-decaf again, so I think we're fine there,” Sirius replied as he kissed the top of Harry's head lightly, “just breathe, love. We're doing the best we can, and we can do no more or less than that.”

“It almost doesn't feel like enough,” Harry muttered dejectedly, “I just hope it doesn't hate us...”

“They won't,” Sirius replied at once, his voice ringing with confidence, “you know that I adore you, and our child will too, I promise.”

“You shouldn't make promises like that,” Harry said, his mouth quirking into a small half-smile as he looked up at his husband. “It's not your promise to keep.”

“Sure it is,” Sirius replied with a warm chuckle, “you're not the kind of person who people hate. You inspire love, you always have. Why would our child hate you?”

“If it ever finds out I didn't want it at the start, it might feel like I don't really love it...” Harry mumbled, and he felt his stomach turn over with guilt.

“You _do_ want this baby, Harry,” Sirius said firmly, and he wrapped an arm around him while he pressed a kiss to his temple. “I know it probably doesn't feel like it, because of all the extra shit that you have to deal with, but when you see our child, I can't imagine anyone loving them more than you. A lot of prospective mothers—” Sirius began, and paused to offer Harry an apologetic smile at his words when the younger man glared at him. “Well, some of them, they feel like the pregnancy is sort of this...abstract sort of thing until they see them during the Birth Image Charm, or hold their child in their arms. It might be the same for you.”

“But, Sirius...” Harry paused at the agonizing note in his voice. He swallowed, and tried again. “What...what if I just _can't_ love it? What if we have this kid, and no matter what, I can't love it, knowing how it happened? I care for you, _a lot_ , but like...Rose and Hugo, even if Rose was an unexpected baby, she was still a product of _love_. I...” Harry's voice died as he felt choked by his own guilt. Sirius's hands slackened a little on him, but he did not immediately pull away.

“You still...you still feel like you don't love me?” Sirius asked, his voice dropping to a soft and vulnerable tone, and Harry felt his stomach clench.

“I didn't say that,” Harry replied, and Sirius frowned.

“But you just implied as much,” he pointed out. “Harry, what else can I do? I feel like I've tried _everything_. Why won't you love me?”

Harry flinched at the wording. Harry cared about him—a _lot_. Why couldn't that be enough?

Sirius did not give Harry a chance to respond, but stood and stalked from the room without looking back.

 

**24 th November, 2008**

 

The atmosphere was painfully tense as the couple stepped through the Vanishing Cabinet and into St. Mungo's that blustery November morning. The air was crisp outside, but the inside of the hospital was warm and comfortable.

There was a good foot of space between Harry and Sirius as they passed by the welcomewitch at the front and headed for the Maternity ward. Harry could feel the hissing whispers of the other hospital visitors and patients following him as they moved, and he shifted closer to Sirius before he could completely think through the action, and his husband froze, eyeing him warily.

“Harry?” he asked, his tone cold, and Harry frowned, his stomach churning with nausea at the sound of it. “What do you want?”

“For you to stop being such an arse,” Harry snapped under his breath. “You promised to _be there_ for me through all this. And, in case you've forgotten, this is _me_ going thought all this shite— _for you_. So please, can we argue after this is done? I _hate_ it when we fight.”

Sirius still looked a bit on the sour side, but at Harry's reminder of his promise, most of his antagonism seemed to fade from his face as he rested a reassuring hand at Harry's back and pulled him closer.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered, “it's just...hard sometimes.”

“I know,” Harry said consolingly, “And I'm sorry—I'm _really_ sorry for what I said. I don't hate you, at all; I'm not disgusted by you, or anything like that. I care for you a lot—more than I thought I could, but I don't know if it's love. To be honest, I don't really know what love _is._ All I do know is that if you suddenly went away, or left me, or something happened to you, I'd feel like...like you'd be taking a piece of me with you, a piece I'd never be able to get back.” Harry shifted closer to Sirius, and moved to wrap an arm around his husband's waist. “So don't you dare disappear on me, Sirius Potter-Black, because I'd be in a right state if that ever happened.”

The last remnants of Sirius's sourpuss expression seemed to fade at his words, and it was replaced with a warm, knowing smile that left Harry feeling a little bit confused.

“Come on,” Sirius said, his voice markedly more cheerful than before, “if we keep dawdling, we'll be late.”

Smiling a little, Harry followed Sirius the rest of the way to the ward, his nervousness finally beginning to fade.

Like the last time, Harry and Sirius signed themselves in in the ward itself, and took a seat to wait their turn. This time around, the ward was teeming with activity, which, though busy, seemed quite peaceful to Harry.

That is, until an almighty roar of pain and rage sounded from down the hall as a woman began to scream bloody murder at her poor significant other.

“— _I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING TWAT, YOU DID THIS TO ME, I DON'T CARE IF THIS IS A WIZARDING HOSPITAL, I NEED MORPHINE—_ ”

What Harry supposed was a Silencing Charm of some kind went up, and the ward fell into awkward silence.

“That was...bracing,” Harry ventured, and Sirius snorted.

“Gonna do that to me when you go into labour?” Sirius teased, and Harry laughed weakly.

“The Healer told us last time that I get a C-section, so I hope not,” Harry replied, his voice a little shaky, but he was pleased that he managed to not sound completely terrified when he said it. This did not get past Sirius, and with another warm smile, he snaked an arm around Harry's waist and tugged him close.

The couple sat in silence, listening to the comings and goings of the ward for the better part of twenty minutes before they were called, and led down to a different examination room than last time. This one contained a few regular hard backed chairs, a wall of different potions, and a leather reclining chair not unlike a muggle dentist's chair.

“How are you feeling?” Sirius asked as they sat down again and joined hands. Harry felt a strange warmth wash over him as he sat there and stared at the limb intertwined with his own, a vague smile on his face as he gazed at it.

“Okay, I guess,” Harry replied as his thumb brushed over the back of Sirius's hand, making the appendage twitch a little.

“Don't do that,” Sirius said with a warm chuckle, and Harry glanced up at him with an arched brow.

“Do what?” Harry asked, just as his thumb brushed over the back of Sirius's hand again, and he laughed again.

“ _That_ ,” he replied. “It tickles.”

“Sorry,” Harry said with a laugh of his own, “I can't help it, I just...I like your hands.”

“You like my hands?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied distractedly, smiling a little to himself as he went back to stroking the back of the limb. “They're so strong, but you're always so gentle, and it's rough, but in a good way, and...” he trailed off as his face flooded with colour, and Sirius chuckled warmly.

“Thank you, Harry,” he said, “though I have to ask, is this pregnancy hormones making you a little loopy, or do you think it's is genuine?”

“How am I supposed to know the difference?”

“Point.”

They both laughed, and Harry leant against Sirius's side, feeling more relaxed than he had all day. It was at that moment that a soft knock sounded on the door, and Healer Singh poked her head in.

“Good to see you two,” she said cheerily, and offered them both a smile. “I must say, Mr Potter-Black, you seem to be in much better spirits than the last time I saw you.”

“Perks of having a doting, hovering, pain-in-the-arse for a husband,” Harry replied with a small smile, and Sirius snorted.

“Well, it is certainly good to see you more cheerful, in any case,” she remarked, apparently unfazed by Harry's statement. “Stress isn't healthy for you _or_ the baby.”

“Yeah, Sirius has been a big help with that,” Harry admitted, and offered his husband a grin.

“All right, then are you ready for us to have a look and see what's cooking in the oven?” she asked cheerily, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he nodded and stood, his and Sirius's hands still intertwined as he moved over to the reclining chair. The Healer summoned a chair for Sirius, and he sat at Harry's opposite side while she went about unbuttoning the bottom half of his shirt and exposing his flat—now hairless—stomach.

“Will he grow his chest hair back?” Sirius asked curiously while the Healer summoned a thick roll of parchment upon a wooden rod, and a small glass jar of some sort of thick yellowish salve.

“Eventually,” she replied as she unrolled a large rectangle of the parchment and laid it flat upon the side-table, “right now the potions in Harry's system are doing the work of replicating the body of a cisgender woman—”

“a _what_ woman?” Harry interjected, and she smiled kindly at him.

“a cisgender woman,” she repeated. “It means a woman who was assigned female at birth. Anyway, the potions hold back the testosterone, and flood your body with estrogen. Honestly, the hairless chest is just a cosmetic aspect, not really a medical one that has any use. I read that they introduced it about ten years ago, because men didn't like the look of hairy breasts and hairy pregnant bellies, so some company—I believe it was Mistress Magda's Magical Make-Up—came in and helped to brew the potions that we now use. That said, once your child finishes nursing, you return here and we have the excess organs removed, your chest will flatten on its own, and your testosterone will start its work again and you'll be back to your hairy self about six months after that.”

“Not that you're missing all that much to start with,” Sirius murmured teasingly, just loud enough for Harry to hear, “you were already pretty sparse with that particular manly touch.”

“Quiet, you,” Harry shot back just as softly, while the healer went about unscrewing the lid of the jar, and with her hands covered by a pair of gloves, she scooped out a measure of the salve, about the size of a walnut, and began to spread it over Harry's abdomen.

The salve was cold, and Harry sucked his stomach in on impulse, but the healer did not react as she continued her work, spreading a thin layer thoroughly over his stomach before she removed the gloves and picked up her wand.

“Ready?” she asked, and Harry nodded.

Healer Singh tapped the table, and it lifted on longer legs, angling itself until Harry and Sirius could both clearly see the parchment. She tapped Harry's stomach gently, then the parchment, and Harry held his breath.

At first, Harry watched as the parchment filled with black, like someone had suddenly scribbled over the whole thing with charcoal. Harry could see the distinct edge of a large white circle, about the size of  a dinner plate, and the healer tapped the parchment again. It zoomed in, and slowed to a stop upon a tiny, circular _thing_ that was thumping in a steady, even pattern.

“There's your baby,” she said cheerfully.

Harry stared.

It was tiny, and looked like barely more than the head of a pin _,_ thumping with its tiny little heartbeat.

His _baby._

“It's really in there,” Harry murmured, and he felt his throat tighten. Sirius squeezed his hand, and he turned to his husband, who was smiling at him, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“You're about five weeks along,” the healer said when Harry turned back to her, “and my guess is you'll be due in approximately late July or early August. Right now, it's about the size of a poppy seed, but nine months from now...”

“I'll be the rough size of a young killer whale,” Harry filled in, and Healer Singh laughed a little.

“That about sums it up,” she replied, “do either of you have any questions?”

“Um, my friend, she had like...a normal pregnancy,” Harry said awkwardly while he continued to all but cling to Sirius's hand, “and she was really sick with puking her guts up and heartburn for a long time...is it the same for...this sort?”

“It varies with everyone,” the healer explained while her gaze shifted to Sirius with a warm smile, who seemed unable to take his eyes off the Birth Image picture while she spoke with Harry. “But most men who go through this procedure either report _more_ morning sickness, or less than your average 'normal' pregnancy,” she said, using air-quotes. “So, really, there's no way to say. Do you get ill easily, Mr Potter-Black?”

“I sometimes get ill from stress, but not usually, no,” Harry replied, shifting uncomfortably as he thought back to the courtship, and how stressed he'd been that he'd thought he'd been properly ill.

_If I'd known how it'd turn out though, I definitely wouldn't've been ill, though,_ Harry thought with a small, wry smile, and he offered Sirius's hand a small squeeze, which he returned.

“It's difficult to say then,” she said, and offered him another smile, “generally the morning sickness starts within the next three or four weeks, so you'll know soon enough.”

“Brilliant,” Harry replied with a wince as he shifted his gaze back to the image on the parchment, and he felt his heart flutter.

_His baby._

“You'll still need to be extra careful,” the healer filled in, her tone delicate as she watched the couple. “Until your thirteenth week, you'll still be in your first trimester, but once that passes, your risk of miscarriage drops significantly.”

“I'll be careful,” Harry replied, his voice a little breathless as he gazed at the image. It didn't look much like a baby, but the idea that that tiny _thing_ inside of him would become one was both terrifying and strangely humbling all at once.

For the first time, Harry could hardly wait to see his baby grow and change, and at the the thought, he smiled happily to himself.

 

~*~

 

Harry and Sirius returned home in the early afternoon with a few copies of the Birth Image photograph under Harry's arm in various sizes. The moment that they stepped out of the Vanishing Cabinet, Harry made a beeline for the sofa, and sat down with a soft, exhausted huff.

“Tired?” Sirius asked, smiling a little as he sat down next to his husband and rested his hand on Harry's knee, making him tingle all over from the small touch. “Want a tisane?”

“ _Herbal tea_ ,” Harry corrected immediately, “it sounds no better when you pretty it up like that. And yes, please. Peppermint.”

Chuckling, Sirius nodded and pressed a kiss to Harry's cheek before he stood and headed for the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two steaming mugs. Sirius pressed one into Harry's hands, but set his own on the coffee table while he scooped up the book Harry had given him. On impulse, Harry offered up one of the Birth Image photographs with a small smile.

“You read my mind,” Sirius chuckled, while Harry smiled bashfully as Sirius accepted the photo and shrunk it down to a more appropriate size before he opened the book, and began to cast a sticking charm on the back of it.

Uncertain what to say, Harry leant against Sirius's side and watched him work, while he sipped the tea quietly.

“Our baby...” Sirius said softly, after he pressed the photo into its frame, his hand running over the picture reverently. “It's a bit hard to believe.”

“I had no idea it was possible to see it so early on a Birth Image...thing,” Harry said as he gazed down at the photo. “In the muggle world, it's pretty much unheard of to see it on an ultrasound so early...muggle equivalent to a Birth Image Charm, Hermione was telling me.”

“Perks of being a wizard, I suppose,” Sirius replied with a warm chuckle, while Harry moved one of his hands to rest over Sirius's. His husband smiled, and turned the limb over so that their palms were touching.

“Er...Sirius?”

“Hm?” Sirius tore himself away from the little photo and gazed down at Harry, his eyes still misty with emotion.

“I...” Harry paused and bit his lip. He felt that swell of feeling again, like a balloon inflating in his chest, and he offered Sirius a warm smile. “I...love you.”

Sirius blinked, his eyes widening for a moment before they softened, and a tear trickled down his cheek.

“Sorry,” Sirius said, laughing weakly as he moved to wipe it away, but Harry beat him to it, catching the tear with his thumb as he smiled up at Sirius. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but Harry found that he was at a loss for what to say, or how to console his husband.

Instead, Harry kissed him.

Harry abandoned his tea, his hands falling to rest on either side of Sirius's face, cradling his cheeks as he to clambered into Sirius's lap, and he held Harry there, while Harry felt a perfect peace in the embrace, of everything they couldn't put into words—everything that felt impossible to say.

“Don't be sorry,” Harry replied at last, he whispering the words against Sirius's kiss-swollen lips. “I mean it. I _feel_ it. I'm just sorry it took me so long to spit it out. I love you, Sirius Potter-Black.”

“Oh, Harry,” Sirius murmured as he leant in for a kiss. “I love you too, I have for a long time.”

“I know,” Harry chuckled warmly, “thank you for being so patient with me. And thank you for being here for me for this, and all the rest. Just...thank you. I can't imagine doing any of this with anyone else.”

Sirius, now smiling broadly and crying openly, moved forward to cradle Harry's cheeks in his large hands, and leant in for a gentle kiss.

“Me neither, Harry.”


	10. Hormones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Kink Warning: Second half of this chapter contains a scene including mild Dom/Sub play, bondage, very mild Daddy kink, and spanking. It's now tagged, but you have been warned :D Next update will be April 12th.

Chapter Ten – Hormones

 

**23 rd December, 2008**

Harry was getting tired of this, and it was barely nine weeks into the pregnancy, and already he wanted it _over_.

“Harry?” Sirius knocked on the bathroom door. “You okay in there?”

Harry answered with even more enthusiastic retching, and he distinctly heard Sirius say, “ _ew_.”

“I heard that, Sirius Orion Potter-Black!” Harry shouted in between waves of sick, “I didn't _ask_ for this, you know, so don't you dare _ew_ me! And, for the record _no_ , I am _not_ okay! Do I _sound_ okay to you?”

Harry heard his husband grumble, then the doorknob rattled. Too annoyed to face his so-called _better half_ yet, he flicked his wand at the doorknob to lock it, and Sirius cursed.

“Harry, stop being ridiculous and let me in!” Sirius yelled, just as Harry began to throw up again, though given that it was so early, it was mostly bile and not much else. Harry ignored him, gagging over the toilet for a few more minutes before it seemed as though it had passed, and he stood up with a small groan, his knees creaking on the way up. He flushed the toilet, then moved to the sink and rinsed his mouth out, before he grabbed his toothbrush and very thoroughly brushed his teeth.

When Harry finally unlocked the door, he was witness to Sirius looking not just very irritated, but doing a very lively pee-pee dance for him.

“Back teeth are floating, eh?” Harry asked dryly, and snorted as Sirius (still quite naked) shouldered past him and rushed for the toilet.

 

Harry, still a little grey-faced, waited until Sirius had finished peeing before he took a quick shower (unceremoniously kicking his husband out of the bathroom, quite keen to wash _alone_ after his _ew_ comment) and shuffled out in fresh pyjamas and his dressing gown before he finally ventured out of the loo, to find Sirius in the kitchen cursing to himself as he stood before the cooker.

He was dressed now, but like Harry, only in his pyjamas and a dressing gown. He had eggs going in a cast-iron pan, and he was making toast while the kettle began to steam. Miraculously, it did not appear as though he might muck it up this time. His egg-cooking skills had vastly improved since they'd gotten married, but out of habit Harry opened his mouth to ask if he could help, and immediately Sirius stepped back from the cooker and began to gently herd Harry towards the table.

“You look like death, Harry,” Sirius said simply, “sit down, and let me get something together for you.”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled with a soft huff, and plopped down in one of the chairs, just barely catching himself in time from voicing his desire for coffee, preferring to not have his head bitten off that morning.

Ten minutes later, Sirius pushed a platter of eggs and toast in front of him along with some marmalade and a cup of decaffeinated tea. Harry wrinkled his nose a little at lack of caffeine, while his stomach roiled at the sulphuric smell of the eggs. Instead he went for the dry toast, bypassing the butter and other toppings, but still the bland food made his stomach lurch unpleasantly, and he pushed the platter away from him with a soft groan.

“Harry, you need to eat something,” Sirius said in a soft, encouraging tone, and Harry glared at him.

“Don't tell me what to do,” Harry grumbled, “if I eat, I'll puke. Can't I just have it later? I don't want to waste the food you made for me.”

Sirius appeared to be caught between annoyance and pleasure at the statement, and with a small huff he cast a stasis charm, and returned to the kitchen, coming back a moment later with a cup of ginger tea.

“Small sips,” Sirius instructed in a parental, _you're going to eat it and like it_ sort of voice. “It should help with the nausea.”

“So you don't have to hear me puking anymore?” Harry asked sourly as he glared at the mug on the table, “don't think I've forgotten about that _ew_ remark—”

“—no, you git, it's to help you feel better,” Sirius snapped, his brow furrowing with frustration. “Gods, you're so grumpy this morning. I'm _trying_ to help you, but I won't bother if you're going to be this bitchy.”

“ _Bitchy!_ ” Harry cried, and jumped up angrily, the herbal tea forgotten. “Can you blame me? _You_ did this to me, in case you've forgotten. I don't have to do all this you know, put up with months of hell and misery for _you_. I _could_ have said _sod it all_ , and just swanned off to the muggle world, leaving you high and dry, but I didn't, and now you're accusing _me_ of being _bitchy?_ ”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Sirius snapped back as he stood up and began to pace. “What the hell is your problem, Harry? All I did was get grossed out at hearing my husband turning himself inside out over the fucking toilet! Any normal person would have the same bloody reaction!”

“Well then maybe you should just go and _be_ with one of those normal people!” Harry yelled, “obviously I'm not good enough for the _wonderful_ Sirius Black!”

“You know damn well that that's not it!” Sirius yelled back as he slammed his hand down angrily on the dining room tabletop, making the cutlery rattle. “We have _no_ control over all this, and this is just another part of it. I've always been squeamish, you _know_ that, and you _know_ that me saying _ew_ doesn't mean I love you any less, you idiot!”

“Now you think I'm stupid!” Harry cried, and Sirius groaned. “How am I supposed to have this bloody kid when you don't even want me! You must think I really am a freak, and you probably won't even want to touch me eight months from now when I'm as big as a sodding elephant!”

Too angry to face off with Sirius any longer, he turned and stomped towards the kitchen, keen to get outside.

“If you're going for a dramatic exit, use the Vanishing Cabinet!” Sirius called, “don't you _dare_ punish our child for your shitty attitude!”

Harry whirled around and glared at Sirius, then stomped to the sitting room. Too furious to take the time to change his clothes, Harry transfigured his pyjamas into jeans and a T-shirt before he hastily scribbled Ron and Hermione's address onto the card, stomped into the cabinet, and slammed the door so hard that the whole piece of furniture seemed to tremble from the force of it.

Using the Vanishing Cabinet was a lot like (in Harry's opinion) using a lift. There was a momentary, distinct weightlessness, then an audible _ding_ , and you had arrived at your destination. It was practical, but not very satisfying when one had just had an argument with one's husband.

Harry burst through the door of the Cabinet sulkily, and Hermione was already there, smiling, one tot hanging off her leg, another in one arm, and she was holding out a cup of herbal tea with the other.

“Let me get these two settled, and then you can tell me what happened, all right?”

Hermione did not wait for his response, but pressed the cup into his hands before she summoned a baby swing and a chest of toys for her children. She set Hugo in the swing with his toy dragon, and opened up the chest for Rose, who immediately went for the set of wooden blocks, before she made a cup of tea for herself, sat on the sofa, and patted the cushion next to her invitingly.

“Where's Ron?” Harry asked as he sat down, grimacing a little at how easily she could always read him.

“At the shop with George and Lee,” she explained as she sipped her tea, “they needed some extra hands today, last-minute Christmas rush and all that.”

“Hmm,” Harry intoned, nodding a little as he looked down at his tea. Now that he was there, he felt a strange, bubbling sense of guilt in the pit of his stomach for storming out on Sirius; had he been _wrong_ to react the way he did?

_No,_ Harry thought almost at once, _Sirius was definitely the one being a cunt, not me._

“Out with it, Harry,” Hermione said, “pregnancy turns everyone into a raging...” she eyed her children, “b-i-t-c-h, no matter whether you're a man or woman, so just tell me what happened, all right? Whatever it is, I'm sure we can work it out...”

“He fu—” Hermione cleared her throat and eyed her children pointedly, and Harry tried again. “He said _ew_ , Hermione. I was in the loo, puking my guts up, I'm pretty sure I turned _completely_ inside out at one point, and all he could say was _ew!_ ”

“Did he try to help you at all?” Hermione asked lightly, and as Harry recalled the incident, he felt himself turn a little red, and her expression became more stern. “ _Harry?_ ”

“I...er...locked him out of the room, then he gave me breakfast, and then when I said I didn't want it he made me tea after, but it was _so obvious_ that he was just doing that so that he wouldn't have to hear me puke again!”

“How was it obvious?” Hermione asked patiently, “did Sirius seem...I don't know, frustrated by your morning sickness, or did he imply at all that he wanted anything more than to help you settle your stomach?”

“I think you just had to be there,” Harry grumbled, and sipped his tea. He was still a bit queasy, and the tea was helping, if only a little.

“Well, just be sure you apologize if you think there was anything you _may_ have done wrong,” Hermione said as little Rose toddled up to her mother and held out her arms in a silent bid to be picked up, and Hermione hefted her onto her lap without a word. “Don't let things fester, all right?”

Harry nodded sullenly, but didn't answer.

 

Later that evening, after spending some time sulking in Hermione's sitting room, Harry reluctantly headed home after dinner, while he braced himself for another argument.

_How was it that someone as sweet and doting as Sirius could be such a fucking_ arse _so much of the time?_

Harry ground his teeth at the thought, and the argument they'd had returned to the forefront of his mind. Sirius had only given him that stupid tea to settle his stomach, but he had also been _very_ clear about how he felt about the side effects of this pregnancy. How was he supposed to go through the rest of it if he had a husband who reacted like _that_?

“I'm home,” Harry mumbled as he stepped out of the Cabinet, and Sirius's head immediately popped out of the hallway. There was an indent upon either side of the bridge of his nose that Harry knew had come from his barely-used reading glasses, and his face was scrunched up in annoyance, but not outright anger. “I...er...I went to Hermione's, and complained about you, and then I came home to...to say I'm sorry.”

Harry bit his lip as he watched Sirius for a reaction, but instead of more shouting, Sirius's shoulders slumped and he held out his arms to his husband.

Relieved that he wasn't cross, Harry rushed into Sirius's embrace and kissed him hard while the older man hugged him close.

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbled against his mouth, “I don't know why I flipped out on you so badly this morning, I know you're just trying to help...”

“It's all right, sweetheart,” Sirius purred, making Harry flush at the pet name, and he chuckled. “Crazy pregnancy hormones, I get it. Just try and remember I want to help you, okay?”

“I'll try, no guarantees,” Harry replied, and Sirius chuckled softly before he leant in to kiss him again. Harry returned it enthusiastically, one arm wrapped tightly around Sirius's neck while his other hand buried itself into the older man's hair. An idea came to him, and he grinned wickedly.

“I have an idea,” Harry murmured in between kisses, and began to tug Sirius towards the bedroom.

“Oh?” Sirius asked, arching a brow, “what sort of idea?”

“A game,” Harry said, still tugging on Sirius, who had finally begun to follow him back to their room. “A _no touching_ game.”

“That doesn't sound very fun,” Sirius pointed out, but Harry's grin did not fade in the slightest as they stopped in the bedroom, and he kissed his husband again.

“It will be,” Harry reassured him. “The way we play is this—we start kissing, and we don't _stop_ kissing, _but_ if you touch me, I win, and I can do whatever I want to you. But if I touch you first, you win, and you can do whatever you want to _me_.”

“Hmm...even more incentive for me to throw the game when you put it like that...” Sirius teased, and Harry laughed.

“No, come on, play properly,” Harry said as Sirius plopped down into the edge of the bed and Harry clambered into his lap. “We're going to have Teddy here tomorrow, and Andromeda on Christmas Day, so let's savour the little time we have alone...”

“Are you forgetting someone?” Sirius teased, and pressed a hand to Harry's flat stomach, “we're not gonna be alone again for another seventeen years, at least.”

Harry snorted at the remark, but found, oddly, that he did not mind it nearly as much as he had expected to. Instead, he kissed Sirius warmly, his hands moving to cup the older man's stubbly cheeks, while Sirius's hands fell to his hips.

“I don't know if this game is such a good idea,” Sirius muttered between kisses, his hands dropping lower to offer Harry's bum a squeeze. “I can't seem to keep my hands off you...”

“Giving up before we even start?” Harry teased, “that doesn't sound like the Sirius Black I know...”

“That's _Potter_ -Black to you, young man,” Sirius admonished, and swatted his arse once, making Harry yelp, closely followed by a high giggle.

“Okay, come on, game time,” Harry said, and reluctantly lifted his arms into the air. Sirius chuckled, and mirrored him. “Remember, no touching, and... _go_.”

They kissed.

First, they were simple pecks, nothing more, but Sirius did not seem to be even straining from the effort of _not_ touching him, and Harry doubled his efforts. He deepened the kiss, prying Sirius's willing lips apart with his tongue, and grinned inwardly when he heard the older man let out a small groan.

“That's...that's cheating,” Sirius muttered as his arms twitched a little, and Harry grinned.

“Is it?” Harry asked between kisses, while he locked his ankles at the small of Sirius's back, “I don't remember saying the use of tongue was against the rules...”

Sirius whimpered, very much like a dog being denied a real treat, while Harry devoured his mouth in another hot kiss, nibbling and tugging at Sirius's bottom lip with his teeth—in essence, using every dirty trick he could think of on his poor husband, who seemed to be trembling from the strain of trying to keep his hands to himself.

Sirius leant back a little, propping his arms against the bed, possibly in an effort to keep himself from touching Harry, while Harry leant forward, kissing him harder, their tongues tangling together while they each dared each other to be the first one to break.

Sirius began to give as good as he was getting, and let out a soft sound, somewhere between a growl and a purr as he bit down gently on Harry's bottom lip, before he pulled into his mouth and sucked on it gently. Harry groaned, lost in the sensation, and moved his hands to cup the older man's cheeks. Sirius broke away from the kiss and cackled, just as Harry cursed.

“I win,” Sirius sing-songed, and tugged Harry down onto the bed before climbed on top of him and pinned the younger man's wrists above his head. “Now you have to do whatever I say.”

“Oh no, poor me,” Harry said as he laughed, his grin widening as Sirius leant in to kiss him. “This is just pure _torture_.”

Sirius smirked, and while he held Harry's wrists in one hand, he leant over to the bedside table, and withdrew the leather handcuffs that he'd given Harry for their anniversary. Harry bit back a laugh as he struggled halfheartedly, while Sirius smirked at him and cuffed him to the headboard.

“Such a sore loser, Harry,” Sirius murmured, “and when the game was _your_ idea...”

“I'm not a sore loser _yet_...” Harry retorted, “obviously you need to spank me.”

Sirius barked a laugh, then dissolved into a fit of giggling as he buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, while his hands fell to Harry's hips in an effort to tug him closer.

“Gods above, I _love_ you, you perverted little sexy game inventor and husband of mine.”

“Wow, that _almost_ made sense.”

“Quiet, you,” Sirius replied, and swatted at the side of Harry's arse. “Tonight, _I'm_ in charge—”

“—proving that miracles do sometimes happen—”

“Oi!” Sirius swatted him again, and Harry laughed. “You _really_ want me to spank you?”

“Was _obviously you need to spank me_ too ambiguous?” Harry asked, and grinned when Sirius leant in for a kiss.

“Just want to be sure,” he replied softly, and pecked Harry's lips again, “we'll have to save the caning for...you know, _after_. I don't want to accidentally dislodge anything.”

“I dunno if we need to go _that_ far...”

“Never say never, baby,” Sirius murmured, “I always said I'd never be a bottom—” Harry snorted loudly, and Sirius blinked. “What?”

“You're _not_ a bottom.”

“I'm not?” he blinked again. “But what about our anniversary?”

“You mean when _I_ rode _you_?” Harry asked, his lips spread into a wide grin as he spoke. “Give it up, you're a total top, even when you're trying to be submissive.”

“What can I say?” Sirius asked as he leant in for a kiss, “those big bright eyes of yours, like a doe, those sweet, pouty lips, it's like you're _begging_ to be dominated.”

“Oh, yes please,” Harry moaned, arching his hips as he squirmed in the handcuffs, and Sirius chuckled softly.

“What do you want, Harry?” Sirius purred between kisses, and Harry groaned in frustration.

“How many times are you going to make me say it?” Harry demanded. “I _want_ you to do _whatever_ you want to me. Including tying me up—”

“—which I already did—”

“—spanking me,” Harry continued, ignoring Sirius's interruption, “and then fucking me through the mattress.”

“You're a _terrible_ submissive, do you know that?” Sirius asked, arching a brow at him, and Harry offered him a grin.

“What can I say? I know what I want,” Harry replied, his voice dropping to a purr, and Sirius groaned as he leant in for a kiss.

Harry squirmed in the cuffs, kissing Sirius back enthusiastically while Sirius blindly pawed for his wand, and with a quick flick, Harry found himself naked under his still fully-clothed husband.

“Cheater!” Harry whined around the kiss, and Sirius laughed.

“Easier than freeing you,” Sirius teased, “besides, there's something oddly sexy about you being starkers while I still have my clothes on...”

“You look better starkers than I do,” Harry retorted, his cheeks tinting pink as he spoke, and and Sirius laughed again.

“You like seeing me naked?” Sirius asked, arching a brow, and Harry felt his face darken.

“You know that I do,” Harry replied bashfully, and his husband smirked—though this time, Harry felt his gut twist with nervous uncertainty. _What was Sirius up to?_

“Well, then...” Sirius said as he leant forward and nipped at Harry's bottom lip, “if you're a good boy...” he nipped at the edge of Harry's jaw, “I might just strip for you, but we'll just have to see if you behave yourself, yeah?”

Sirius ended the statement by gently closing his teeth over Harry's earlobe and offering it a gentle tug, and Harry groaned as he tried to arch into the touch, but he was impeded somewhat by the bindings he currently found himself in. 

“I'm be good,” Harry said too quickly his words jumbling together as he did so, and Sirius snorted.

“Want to try that again, love?”

“Shut up.”

“Naughty, naughty, telling me to shut up,” Sirius teased as he leant in to kiss him again, and Harry let out a needy moan as he returned it. “Should punish you...”

“Spank me, Daddy,” Harry purred, and immediately his cheeks flushed red, which caused Sirius to chuckle warmly, but Harry could feel against his bare thigh that Sirius certainly did not find the pet name unappealing in the least.

“You really want to be spanked? Seriously?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded while he bit his lip, his face flaming red in embarrassment for even _asking_ such a thing, but Sirius merely smiled at him warmly.

“You're getting more bold in the bedroom,” Sirius purred, making the flush on Harry's face deepen as he spoke. “I like it; it's sexy.”

“It's...sexy?” Harry asked, and Sirius kissed him again in answer. Harry let out a tiny groan of longing as he kissed him back, squirming in his bindings as Sirius pried his lips apart with his tongue, and thoroughly pillaged his mouth, while one hand rested upon Harry's flat stomach, and the other began to lightly caress the side of his arse.

“Come on, my naughty, naughty husband,” Sirius breathed, “I'll cast a cushioning charm on your belly, then I'll put you over my knee until you _learn_ some discipline.”

“Oh, yes, _sir,_ ” Harry replied with a needy moan, and laughed when Sirius swatted the side of Harry's arse lightly. “You better spank my arse harder than _that—_ I didn't even _feel_ it.”

Sirius smacked the side of his arse again, a little harder this time, but still far too gently for what Harry was craving.

“ _Harder_ ,” Harry demanded, and Sirius obeyed, smacking him hard enough that his side tingled with pain, and he moaned out loud.

“That hard enough for you, baby?” Sirius purred, and Harry immediately nodded his head.

“Yes,” he replied, and Sirius arched a brow at him.

“Yes _what_?”

“Yes, _sir_ ,” Harry replied, and Sirius offered him a small smirk as he whipped out his wand, and cast a cushioning charm on Harry's stomach.

The sensation of a cushioning charm on such a sensitive area of Harry's body was a strange one. His stomach sucked in on instinct, and the skin tingled as though someone was pressing the softest pillow to the area. Sirius cast it a second time and the sensation intensified, but when he moved to cast a third one, Harry raised his eyebrows at his husband, and Sirius faltered.

“What?”

“The poppy seed is cushioned enough, don't be paranoid,” Harry said, and squirmed pointedly in the handcuffs as though to say, _get on with it._

“It's more of a grape now,” Sirius pointed out as he freed one of the cuffs long enough to unlace it from the headboard, then bound the wrist again, while Harry snorted a little, but resisted the urge to respond with an offhanded, sarcastic remark. He was enjoying himself far too much to risk spoiling it now.

Doing his best to help Sirius along, the older man manoeuvred Harry into his lap, with his arse pointed high, and in the perfect spanking position. Harry shivered when he felt Sirius run his hand over his left buttock, and he could all but _hear_ the smirk upon his face when he chuckled softly.

“Now, Harry, since you've been so naughty, I'm going to give you ten strikes,” Sirius said, his voice once more adopting a low purr that made Harry shiver involuntarily. “You're going to count them out for me, but if you miss one, we'll start over from the beginning until you get it right— _but_ if at any point you really need to stop, just say _snitch,_ and I'll stop. Understand?”

“I understand, sir,” Harry replied, while he did his best to keep from fidgeting too much. “Will you fuck me after you've spanked me?”

“Only if you're a good boy,” Sirius replied, and Harry snickered a little. “Ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, here we go...”

Sirius lifted his hand off Harry's arse, and when it came down again, it was with a harsh slap that made Harry's body jerk as he cried out in both pain and pleasure.

“O-one!” he said, panting harshly as his straining erection pressed into the top of Sirius's knees, not at all dimmed by the sting of the spanking.

Sirius brought his hand down for the second time, and spanked him again, causing Harry to cry out, “two!”

It continued. It was bliss. It was pain. Harry counted out each slap diligently, and while part of him could not fathom _why_ he loved it so much, another part of him didn't care, and simply revelled in the pleasure of it all as his arse stung deliciously from the slaps as Sirius administered them one after the other.

As Harry called out the tenth slap, Sirius immediately released him from the cuffs, drew Harry into his arms, and held him close while he rubbed his back, and Harry panted sharply against the hollow of his throat. His breath hitched, and his hold on Sirius tightened. The older man pulled back, his brow creased as he gazed at Harry, and Harry felt his face burn a little as he glanced away from him.

“Harry?” Sirius asked, and Harry rubbed at his nose as it began to run. “Love, why are you crying?”

“I—I don't know,” Harry sniffed again, and rubbed roughly at his eyes. “I feel _happy_. And that was so good and I wanted you to fuck me, but—”

“Baby, it's okay, just breathe, and tell me what's wrong,” Sirius said gently as he rubbed Harry's back, and he sniffled again as tears began to streak his cheeks.

“ _Nothing's_ wrong, you git. That was bloody fantastic. I just _told_ you that I don't know why I'm crying!” Harry wailed, and instead of saying something comforting, Sirius laughed and pulled him closer.

“Stop laughing at me,” Harry said, his voice soft and far less venomous than he'd intended as he mumbled the demand against the side of Sirius's neck.

“I'm not laughing _at_ you,” Sirius said with a chuckle as he leant in for a kiss, but Harry, still cross with Sirius, refused to look at him as he hiccoughed and tried to reign in his crying. “Love, come on, look at me, please?”

Grudgingly, Harry's gaze flicked up, and Sirius chuckled as he wiped a few of the tears from Harry's cheeks.

“You're just tired, I think,” Sirius said consolingly as he kissed Harry properly, though Harry's stomach bubbled with anger as he glared at the older man. “Maybe it was a little much to play rough with you right now, with so much going on. I mean...your hormones are going a little haywire, so you're...you know...”

“A crazy pregnant bloke, is that what you're trying to say?” Harry demanded acidly, sniffling pathetically as he narrowed his eyes at Sirius.

“Completely and utterly barmy, that's you,” Sirius replied, grinning at Harry as he said it, and Harry rolled his eyes. “Come on, let's get some rest, we have a busy couple of days coming up.”

“I really wanted to let you shag me,” Harry whined as Sirius eased him down onto the bed, and got up to undress himself. Harry lay on his side as he watched his husband, and Sirius paused, hands at the buttons on his shirt as he offered Harry a sly little smirk.

“Plenty of time for that when you're not feeling so overwhelmed all the time,” Sirius replied as he tugged the shirt off and lobbed it into the hamper. “Though I think it might be a good idea to save any more kinky shenanigans for after the baby is born, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed reluctantly as Sirius finished stripping and slipped into bed next to him.

Harry curled up in his husband's arms, frustrated, but oddly sated at the same time. He pressed his cheek to the side of Sirius's chest and heaved a small sigh while Sirius's hand moved to his hair, and stroked the locks gently.

“You all right?” Sirius asked softly, and Harry shrugged.

“Just thinking about everything that's going to happen in the next few months,” Harry mumbled, “it's still a bit...surreal.”

“We'll get some good practice in tomorrow,” Sirius teased, and Harry snorted as he swatted his chest. Sirius chuckled, and leant in to kiss Harry's temple as he added, “I know you're nervous, love, but we'll be all right—just you wait an see. I'll love you even when you waddle everywhere, and can only get up to pee.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” Sirius grinned, “I love you too.”

There was a pause, and for a moment Harry thought that Sirius would let him drop off to sleep after that reaffirmation of his adoration of him, when he spoke again.

“Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“What do you think about seeing a Mind Healer after the hols?” Sirius asked, his arms tensing around Harry a little as he spoke. “I mean just you, not _us._ I think it might be a good idea for you to have someone other than me or Hermione to talk to about everything...you know, someone objective.”

“The Healer said the same thing,” Harry replied, his voice a little slurred with exhaustion, but the shift from light to serious talk was quickly waking him up.

“Did she?”

“Yeah. She was worried about me bottling things up and stuff,” Harry replied, deciding (for the moment) to hold off on her dire warnings about him mentally rejecting the baby once it came. Somehow, he doubted that that was true. “She wanted me to have someone to talk to if things got overwhelming.”

“Well...I won't make you go if you don't want to, but considering how reluctant you were to go through all this, and your explosion this morning, it might be a good idea.”

“I'll think about it,” Harry mumbled as he cuddled closer to Sirius, and the older man pressed a soft, whiskery kiss to his temple.

“That's good enough for me—whatever you think is best for you,” Sirius said softly, and as he tugged the duvet over himself and Harry, the pair finally fell asleep.


	11. Showing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update scheduled for April 26th. Due to bad planning on my part, all my current WIPs (4 of 'em) have run out of pre-written chapters—usually I write all or most of the story in advance, and spend the week or fortnight in between updates editing and going over bits with my beta, but this time I posted the stories before they were completed, which led to this disaster. What this means is that while I will do my best to put out next week's instalment on time, there may be a delay in posting it—I feel that it's better to wait and put out something good, rather than give you guys a rushed pile of crap. So, I will do my best to stay on schedule, and I hope you guys enjoy this week's update :)

Chapter Eleven – Showing

 

**2 nd February, 2009**

“Hello, Harry,” the Mind Healer said as he stepped into her office for his second visit, and Harry offered her a weak smile.

“Hi, Helen,” he replied, and her smile broadened a little.

“And how are you feeling today?”

“A bit less exhausted,” Harry admitted, and she laughed softly. “I hit the end of my first trimester a fortnight ago, and Sirius wanted to celebrate, but I was too busy puking, so we called off our big night out.”

“And so soon after Christmas, I imagine it was a little much to put on you.”

“Yeah, Teddy was a right little terror,” Harry said with a small laugh as he rested a hand on his stomach compulsively. “Of course, Sirius and I spoiled him rotten—sweets and presents and everything, but he's hit that preteen snarky attitude age, so most of the time it was me and Andromeda plotting his murder...he only listens to Sirius lately.”

“Do you know why Sirius is the only one he listens to?” she asked, noting something down on the piece of parchment in front of her, and Harry shrugged a little.

“No idea,” Harry said, “I mean, a few people think it's because I'm more stern with him than Sirius is, but it seems like it might be more than that...maybe because Sirius was Remus's best friend, and I was the son of his best friend sort of thing?”

“It's possible,” Helen agreed as she nodded her head, “he may see Sirius as a more paternal figure, given that he is older, or perhaps he knows he can get away with more with Sirius—from what you tell me, he is far more lenient with Teddy than you or his grandmother.”

“So I really am the No Fun Uncle,” Harry muttered, and she chortled a little.

“Given that you have a child on the way, it is not a bad thing that one of you is more firm,” she said simply. “It gives you an opportunity to practice—a child with no rules or boundaries is not an ideal circumstance for anyone.”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, thinking of Dudley, “I know.”

“Now, tell me, is there anything else new going on, in your life or your pregnancy, that you wish to discuss?” she asked, “remember, Harry, this is a safe space—you can tell me anything you want, and I will not judge you or repeat it to anyone.”

“Well...erm...” Harry bowed his head a little as he fiddled with the hem of his newest Weasley jumper. “I've...erm...started to show.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Weird,” Harry replied reluctantly, “it looks like I ate too much or something, it doesn't really look like I'm... _you know_...”

“Pregnant?” she filled in patiently, and Harry nodded. “Let's start there—try saying the word for yourself.”

“Why?”

“Humour me,” she replied with a soft smile.

Harry eyed her dubiously, and with a soft, defeated sigh, he mumbled, “ _pregnant_.”

“Try it again, Harry,” she encouraged. “Do not be scared of a word. You can speak Voldemort's name without even a tremor in your voice, do not be defeated by something like this.”

“P-pregnant,” Harry said, his voice shaking a little, but he managed to voice the word more clearly this time.

“Once more, do not be afraid, Harry, you can do this.”

“Pregnant.”

“And how does that feel?”

“Weird,” Harry repeated as he lowered his gaze back to his lap. “I didn't realize how stressful one stupid word could be...”

“Do you know why it might be stressful to voice?” she asked patiently, and Harry shrugged. Unfortunately, she did not pose another question, and merely waited for Harry to respond.

“I guess...it still doesn't feel real to me,” Harry replied, his voice little more than a soft mumble. “I mean, beyond the fact that I still feel like I shouldn't be able to do this at all—I always thought it was only something women could do—I'm just afraid that I won't be good enough for this kid.”

“Many prospective parents feel this way, Harry,” she said reassuringly, “and I cannot force you to _get ready_ to be a parent, only you can do that, but what I can do is offer you coping mechanisms to help prepare you for what is to come.” She steepled her fingers, and smiled reassuringly at Harry over her desk. “What do you think about that?”

“I wish you could help me just...just... _get over_ all this stupid anxiety,” Harry grumbled. “I love Sirius now, I know that I do, and I know I'll love our child, but I just can't get past this sort of...I guess _prejudice_ that only women can have babies, so I feel sort of weird and non-masculine now. Like I've been turned into a girl.”

“I can help you with your anxiety,” Helen said patiently, “but I can't _force_ you to accept it. Only you can decide whether you're willing to accept what is happening as truth or not. In the wizarding world, it is not unheard of for a man to undergo this procedure; it does not make you a woman, and it does not take away your identity as a man. It merely adds another facet to it.”

“It still _feels_ wrong, though,” Harry said emphatically. “Like...like I've been forced into a body that isn't mine. And I keep getting upset over random things, and I can't understand why women would _want_ all this. I mean...the other day, I yelled at Sirius for scrambling my eggs instead of frying them, and then I cried because the butter I put on my mash at dinner was just so _good_ and melted perfectly, like you see in the _Witch Weekly_ adverts. I just worry that Sirius will get tired of it all and leave me behind to deal with this alone.”

“Are you afraid of Sirius leaving you, or of being alone?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“Is there any reason why you think that Sirius might leave you?” she asked, “the way you talk about your husband, it sounds as though he cares for you a great deal.”

“I think he does,” Harry mumbled as he glanced away from her to stare at his knees. “I mean, he's just put up with a lot of stuff since I got...you know... _pregnant_ , and I'm worried he'll just get fed up, and leave. I mean, I do go off on him a lot, and I don't mean to, it just sort of... _happens_. I hate it. I don't like being this crazy.”

“Why do you think you're crazy?” Helen asked gently. “Your body is a battleground right now, and you are overwhelmed with hormones and chemicals keeping the life inside you alive. Sometimes, our hormones speak before we can think through what we want to say. I am sure that Sirius understands that.”

“I think he does...” Harry mumbled, “sometimes it's hard to tell.”

“Does he hurt you—emotionally or physically?”

“Not unless I ask him to,” Harry mumbled, and Helen offered him a small, amused smile. “I mean...when I yell he's like...like...a cornered wild animal—he just lashes out. So I yell, he yells back, then one of us will storm off. When it's him who storms off, I just worry that he won't come back.”

“You're afraid of being abandoned,” she filled in, and Harry shrugged feebly.

“I suppose,” Harry replied. “I mean, my parents, Cedric, Dumbledore...I almost lost Sirius in my fifth year, and that was _horrible_. And then the war...I just...” Harry felt his voice catch, and he cut himself off abruptly. Harry took a few slow breaths, but that did nothing to stop the tears, and he felt himself flush with shame as they dripped down his cheeks. He sniffed sharply, and wiped his face as he tried to continue, while Helen offered him a tissue, which he accepted. “I'm just so afraid of losing Sirius, too.”

“Part of your fear of losing Sirius is likely your anxiety speaking, and not you,” Helen said as she leant forward in her seat a little. “Do you worry about losing Sirius often?”

“Yeah, but more since all of this pregnancy stuff started.”

“And when it happens, do you talk about it with Sirius, or lock it away?” she asked, and Harry winced a little. She did not press Harry for an answer, but waited patiently until he heaved a frustrated sigh, and eased back in his chair.

“I never talk about it,” Harry replied after more than a full minute of silence. “I feel like...talking about it will make it more real, or Sirius will misunderstand me and think that I'm _hoping_ that he'll leave, or something mad like that. He's just so _sensitive_ , way worse than me.”

“Would you like to bring him to one of our sessions, Harry?” Helen asked kindly, “I can sit in while you talk with him, and help clear up any misunderstandings. Another option is to discuss this when you're both feeling calm, and there are no other stressers agitating you both, if you'd rather not talk with me here.”

“I don't really _want_ to talk about it,” Harry mumbled, and winced as he gazed at her. “Do I really have to?”

“Only if you want to,” she replied. “I can't make these decisions for you—only you can decide when is the right time to talk to your husband about these things.”

“I wish I knew when that _was_ ,” Harry replied, his voice laced with frustration. “I mean, part of me _knows_ that I need to talk to Sirius about stuff, otherwise it'll just build, and build, and build until one of us explodes, but another part of me just doesn't want to deal with _any_ of it.”

“Are there any other subjects that you feel like you need to talk about with him?”

“Well...I should probably tell Sirius that I'm showing, but I kind of don't want to,” Harry said, his face flushing red with shame as he glanced away from her.

“And why do you not want to tell him?”

“Because...because...he'll get all _excited_. And I'm still stuck between freaking out over it and thinking, bloody hell, there's a _baby_ in there! I couldn't even properly take care of Hedwig, and a few months from now I'll have a child that needs me, but I don't know how to be that person anymore—I'm not someone people can count on, I'm just a big mess.”

“And you feel that you won't be able to take care of your child, because of how you lost your first owl?” Helen asked, and Harry nodded. “How do you think it was your fault that she died?”

“Well, we were all going away from Privet Drive, and Sn—er, one of the Death Eaters hit Hedwig with a Killing Curse.”

“And how is that your fault?” she prompted, “did you know that that Death Eater would attack you and kill your owl?”

“No, I didn't know...”

“Then how do you feel that you could have prevented it, if you had no idea what was about to happen?”

“I...I...” he scowled, and crossed his arms. “I thought you're supposed to _help_ me.”

“I am,” she replied, apparently unruffled by his tone. “You have friends and loved ones who will tell you what you want to hear. My job is to help you, Harry, and that means that I will always be honest with you. And for that reason, I will sometimes say things that will hurt, or feel like an attack—I assure you that they are not, and I am sorry if you feel like they are. My job here is to put things in perspective, and make you realize that your guilt and fears are unfounded—Hedwig's death, like the deaths of your friends, your family, and your loved ones—were not your fault. You _can_ do this, and I will be here to help you see that, for as long as you need me to be.”

 

~*~

 

When Harry got home, Sirius was on the sofa reading the _Daily Prophet_ , and smiled when he saw Harry step out of the Cabinet.

“Hey,” he said as he abandoned the paper and got up to kiss Harry in greeting.

“Hey,” Harry parroted with a small smile. “You know you don't have to sit and wait for me like this every time I go to see my Mind Healer, right?”

“I know, but the last time you seemed so drained, so I went out to Madam Eason's Bakery, you know, the new one across from the Three Broomsticks? And I got you some of those scones you like.”

“The blueberry ones?” Harry asked eagerly, and Sirius smiled as he took out his wand, and flicked it once, summoning a paper bag from the kitchen. The moment he opened it, the sweet scent of blueberry scones wafted up to Harry's nose, and he moaned with longing.

“You are a _god,”_ Harry said as he sat down with his scones, while Sirius lifted his wand again and conjured a tea tray for them. “You're like...the god of husbands.”

“One of the better nicknames I've been given by you,” Sirius teased as he moved in for a kiss, but had timed it rather badly—Harry had chosen that same moment to cram a scone into his mouth whole, and Sirius wound up kissing the pastry instead of him. Harry snorted, and broke off a mouthful, chasing it down with some tea before he leant in to offer Sirius a proper kiss.

“Better?” Harry asked sweetly, and Sirius chuckled a little as he kissed him again, before Harry turned his attention back to his scones.

“Much,” Sirius replied as he wrapped an arm around Harry and pulled him close. “Was your session okay? I'm not trying to pry, you just seem more worn out than last time.”

“She made me talk about a lot of stuff I'd rather not talk about,” Harry mumbled as he sipped his tea, his appetite dimming a little as he thought back on everything. He didn't feel quite ready to tell Sirius what he needed to tell him, but he knew that he needed to do it soon—he was aware that keeping Sirius in the dark like this wasn't fair.

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, “I'm sure it feels bad, but in the end, will probably help. I hope that maybe she can help you not hate yourself as the pregnancy progresses, you know?”

“You help me not hate me,” Harry said as he leant into Sirius's side, and smiled inwardly when the older man offered him a reassuring squeeze as he drew him closer. “You never make me feel like a freak.”

“You're _not_ a freak, Harry,” Sirius said as he kissed his temple, “you're perfect just as you are, and I love you. You could grow tentacles out of your nipples and I still wouldn't think that.” Sirius paused, and winced, while Harry stared at him blankly. “Okay, that's a really weird image, and you should probably just forget it.” Harry laughed.

“Done.”

 

**22 nd February, 2009**

“So, let me get this straight...” Hermione mused as she sipped her wine, and cast a glance over to Ron, who was playing Exploding Snap on the other side of the Burrow's sitting room with George, while she and Harry sat off to one side to chat privately. “You're showing, you have been for almost three weeks, you haven't told Sirius—or anyone else, for that matter—and you're having these mental meltdowns over it because it makes you feel like a freak, and your Mind Healer _also_ thinks you need to tell him, but you keep putting it off. Is that everything?”

“More or less,” Harry replied with a vague shrug. “All the important stuff, anyway. I just know he'll be all excited and stuff, and I don't want him to feel guilty when I'm... _not_ , you know?”

“Not excited about it, you mean?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Harry...” Hermione paused, and glanced over to where Sirius was standing and chatting with Bill and Arthur, though his gaze shifted over to Harry every thirty seconds or so. “I think at this point Sirius knows you well enough that he wouldn't force you into anything you really didn't want to do, or as much as he could, given the circumstances. I think if you tell him, or if it becomes too obvious to hide under those oversized jumpers of yours—whichever comes first—Sirius _loves_ you, and I don't think he'd take it personally if you weren't as excited about it as he is...maybe if you choose to tell him, preface it with, 'I'm uncomfortable about this, but I feel like you deserve to know,' or something?”

“Or something,” Harry replied with a heavy sigh as he sipped his tea, “my brain is still stuck on _ignore it and maybe it will go away_.”

“Do you really want that?”

“What?”

“For the pregnancy to fail,” Hermione replied, careful to keep her voice low.

“Of course not!” Harry sputtered angrily, then paused, and raked his fingers of his free hand through his hair. “It just feels so _weird_ , and I hate this feeling like my body isn't mine. And this time when it's over, it won't just _be over_ , there will be a tiny person completely dependant on me not mucking things up,  and I don't know if I can do it.”

“Harry, I am going to tell you right now that even prospective parents who want the child with all their hearts feel that way,” Hermione said gently, and rested a comforting hand on his arm. “The weirdness? It's _normal_. What you're feeling right now is what you're _supposed_ to be feeling, and a few months from now, you will have a child that you will love, and that Sirius will love, and it will feel right, and perfect.”

“You make parenthood sound so... _magical_ ,” Harry replied, his mouth quirking a little at the corners. “I'm not used to hearing you be less than matter-of-fact about anything.”

“Shut up,” Hermione retorted as she swatted his shoulder lightly, and he grinned at her. “But I mean it. I mean, there's lots of not-so-fun parts, like nursing earaches and cleaning up baby puke, but then when little Rosie climbs into my lap and gives me a hug, and says, “I love you, Mama,” it sort of makes it all worth it, you know?”

Harry looked away from her, and down to his stomach. The jumper had once belonged to Dudley, and as a result was several sizes too big, effectively hiding his stomach from view. He lifted a hand, and after a tense moment he lowered it to the hem of the garment, and pulled on it until it was tight across his abdomen, now incrementally swollen to show where his baby was growing, and Hermione beamed at him.

“See?” she asked, “not so scary, is it?”

“No,” Harry agreed, “I suppose not. Still weird, though.”

“I don't think the weirdness ever really goes away,” Hermione admitted as Harry let go of his jumper and picked his teacup back up. “But I think letting Sirius in would be a good idea, it might help you to feel less stressed and uncomfortable about everything. And it's not forever, the weirdness, I mean.”

“Yeah, I hope not,” Harry muttered as he sipped his tea, and though he trusted Hermione, he wasn't sure that he believed that the weirdness wouldn't last—it felt like ages since he had been comfortable in his own skin.

_Maybe if I talk to Sirius like everyone's suggested, I'll feel better,_ Harry mused, tracing the lip of the teacup as he thought it over, his gaze shifting to his husband, and he felt his heart swell a little as Sirius glanced away from Arthur at the same moment to offer him a smile and nod.

_It's worth a try, anyway._

~*~

 

Usually during the Weasley Sunday Dinners, Harry never wanted to leave. It was warm, and homey, and felt good to be a part of such a big, loving family with Sirius at his side.

Tonight however, Harry was anxious to get home.

“Harry, you okay?” Sirius asked over pudding as Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, “you've been jittery all through dinner.”

“I'm fine,” Harry replied with a small smile as he reached for Sirius's hand and squeezed it gently. “Just got a lot on my mind, is all.”

“If that's all...” Sirius murmured over the chaos around them, and Harry offered him another smile.

“Yeah, promise.”

Harry turned back to his food, and did his best to mask his nervousness as he dug his fork into the tart slice, and brought a piece to his mouth. He could still feel Sirius watching him, and did his best to act calm, though inside he could feel his heart thrumming tightly against his ribs.

_I'm going to tell him tonight,_ Harry thought, _both because he deserves to know, and because I should._

_And...because I want to._

Harry started a little at the thought, though if Sirius noticed, he didn't remark on it. He continued eating his own tart slice while he chatted amiably with Bill, but kept a reassuring hand on Harry's knee all the while.

Harry had planned to draw out the evening as though everything was normal, by eight he found himself yawning almost continually. Sirius took to the task of murmuring a few apologies to the Weasleys while Harry bid Ron and Hermione goodbye before Sirius ushered him into the Vanishing Cabinet and took him home.

 

“I don't even know why I'm so tired,” Harry said as they stepped out into their sitting room, where he yawned again. “I feel like I've been up all night, and it's only eight...”

“You're pregnant, baby,” Sirius said as he wrapped an arm around him and offered him a light kiss, “you're body is in overdrive keeping our baby alive and helping it grow. It's only natural that you get tired more easily. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”

Harry almost laughed at Sirius's choice of pet name, and wrapped his own arm around Sirius's waist as he tugged him towards the bedroom, saying, “come on, there's something I want to show you...”

“Show me?” Sirius asked, and Harry offered him a warm smile as he led his husband down the hall and into their bedroom without explaining. Sirius followed willingly, his eyes wide with curiosity as Harry gently pushed him down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, and turned his back on the older man, and grabbed the collar of his jumper and T-shirt in his hands.

“Harry,” Sirius said, breaking the silence. “What's this all about?”

“You'll see,” Harry replied without turning back around. “Just...I want to show you something, but I'm a little nervous about it too...”

“You can share anything with me,” Sirius said, and shifted as though he wanted to get up and embrace Harry, but curbed the impulse. “You know I love you.”

“I love you too, that's why I'm doing this... _thing_.” Harry took a slow breath to calm himself, then gripped the collars again. “Okay, here we go...”

Harry pulled the garments off and tossed them towards the hamper, just barely getting them halfway in. Harry licked his lips nervously, and pressed his hands to his stomach, now slightly rounded, but to him it looked more like he'd eaten too much rather than a baby bump.

With his hands still cradling his stomach, Harry turned around, and Sirius's mouth dropped open.

“You're showing,” he said, and Harry nodded a little as he smiled meekly.

“Er...yeah,” Harry said as he stepped closer until he was standing in between Sirius's legs, and the older man lifted his hand, but stopped a hairsbreadth from his skin, his silvery gaze flitting up to meet Harry's.

“Can I touch you?” Sirius asked uncertainly, and Harry smiled a little.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured softly as he nodded, “you can touch it. They're your baby too, after all.”

Not missing the twinkle of a tear in Sirius's eye, Harry's smile broadened as his husband pressed his palm to the tiny swell of his stomach, and he winced as he felt his stomach gurgle at the same moment, and Sirius's eyes went wider.

“Sorry,” said Harry quickly while he flushed a deep scarlet, “I—I had a lot to eat at the Burrow, and—”

“It's not gas, you twit,” Sirius interjected as he barked a laugh, and Harry blinked in confusion.

“Then what is it?”

“It's the baby,” Sirius replied as he ran his hand across Harry's stomach tenderly, “they're moving around a little bit.”

“Really?” Harry asked as he sat down, Sirius's hand still on his stomach, and he shifted until Harry was lying down on his back in the bed, and Sirius was on his side, still running his hand along the slight baby bump lovingly.

“Yeah,” Sirius breathed, and leant in to kiss Harry again, and Harry felt another flutter of movement as Sirius splayed his palm protectively across his stomach. “Our baby is saying hi.”

“I thought this would be so weird,” Harry murmured as he gazed up at Sirius, “the visibly pregnant part, I mean. When I was first showing, I just wanted to hide it, and I talked to Hermione and my Mind Healer, and they both told me I'd feel better once I told you, and I didn't really believe them...but now I do.”

“Yeah?” Sirius asked, quirking a brow at Harry.

“Yeah. You make _everything_ better,” Harry replied, and arched up for another kiss.

Sirius chuckled warmly, and wrapped his arms around Harry, holding him close, as though he was precious. He traced the contours of the young man's face, he ran his fingers through his hair, and he gently plucked his glasses off his face, showing him, once again, that he was taken care of, and loved.

Harry felt another tiny flutter of movement in his stomach, and Harry dropped his hand to cover Sirius's. As the baby stirred, it felt almost as though they were agreeing with him, and another smile spread across his face as a realization came to him—

He _could_ do this.


	12. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update is scheduled for May 10th. There are a couple of facts in this chapter about Remus and Tonks's pasts (namely, where he lived as a child, and Tonks's exact date of birth) that are entirely made up and not canon. As far as I know, Remus's place of birth is not mentioned in the books, and so I just came up with it myself, and the wiki was kinda vague on when exactly Tonks was born. Also, I am upping the total chapter count to 20 chapters, because I don't think I'll be able to cram everything in in 15 :P

Chapter Twelve – Acceptance

 

**3 rd March, 2009**

“I'm thinking yellow for the baby's room,” Sirius said as they stood in the now-empty guest room, and waved his wand once, changing the walls from a dusky blue-grey to bright baby chick yellow.

“Why yellow?” Harry asked curiously as he stared around the room, one hand resting on his belly, which had grown incrementally in the last fortnight, but it was now quite clear that he was pregnant, and not just bloated from overeating.

“It's unisex,” Sirius explained. “That way, we won't have to change it again after the baby comes.”

“How is _yellow_ unisex?” Harry asked with a teasing laugh. “Have you ever met a bloke with a bright yellow room?”

“Baby blokes have yellow rooms,” Sirius replied distractedly, and Harry snorted.

“I like blue and white better,” Harry replied, wandering around the space as he spoke. “Like...light blue. And we could have all the furniture made out of birch or something...”

He paused by the window, and brushed his hand across the sill. It looked out on the forest; it was damp and cold that day, but he could hear the distant chirping of a few birds in the distance, promising that spring was on its way.

Harry felt Sirius step up behind him, and he smiled when the older man's large hands brushed across his faintly protruding stomach. It felt so intimate—so _good_. It made having this baby feel okay and _right_. Harry leant back against his husband, and Sirius's arms tensed around him as he pressed a whiskery kiss to the side of his neck.

“You couldn't care less when we were picking out décor for the house,” Sirius said softly as he ran one hand up and down the length of Harry's stomach, “why the sudden desire to beautify?”

“I just...” Harry trailed off, and lifted a hand to rest it over Sirius's, and he felt the faint, distinct gurgle of movement in his stomach. “I never got this sort of stuff growing up, or if I did, I don't remember it. I just want our kid to have all the stuff that I didn't—” Harry turned a little, and started when he saw that Sirius was crying. “What's wrong? What did I say?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sirius said as he sniffed and wiped his eyes, “that's just the first time you haven't referred to our child as _it._ It makes me happy to hear you say that.”

“I wanna be a good dad, or mum, or whatever I am,” Harry said as he turned in Sirius's arms and arched up for a kiss, which Sirius happily returned. “I want to be there for our child, so don't let me check out, or have a mental shut-down, all right?”

“Dad, I think, unless you'd rather be called _Mum_ ,” Sirius teased, and Harry offered him a mock glare. “And I promise, I won't let anything happen to you or our child,” he continued, his voice soft and tender as he leant in to kiss Harry again. “Why do you think you'll shut down, and not be there for our child?”

“Just nervous, I suppose,” Harry replied as he pressed his cheek against the side of the older man's chest, and leant against him gently. “I'm not as freaked out as I used to be, and the mind healer's helping a lot, and I keep having all these—according to Hermione— _completely normal prospective parent worries_ like, will the baby be healthy, will they like me, what if they hate me, am I even _parent material_ , and all that stuff.”

“I'd have to agree with Hermione on this one,” Sirius teased, “those _are_ all normal worries. I could always tell you about all the weird shit your mum and dad worried about when your mum was pregnant with you. My favourite was, _what if he doesn't like Quidditch?_ Your mum was _so mad_ about that one.”

Harry snorted a little, and arched up to kiss his husband.

“And what would they think about... _us_?” Harry asked uncertainly, and Sirius offered him a warm, but sad smile as he reached down to stroke Harry's hair gently.

“I think...I think they'd be like the others. Your mum might've been a bit more worried, because I'm supposed to be your godfather, and we do have a _bit_ of an age gap, but she was always dead clever, and would've worked it out pretty quick like Hermione did. I think your dad would've understood, but might've taken the time to thump me good and threaten me with chopping off all the bits that stick out if I tried anything...in the end, I think they would've wanted us to be happy, even if our relationship came about in a bit of an unconventional way.”

“And what about...” Harry trailed off, and bit his lip. He felt Sirius's arms tense around him as his thoughts drifted back to Andromeda's dire warnings about mentioning Remus to Sirius.

“What about...?” Sirius prompted, his voice quivering a little, and Harry glanced away.

“Er, nothing.”

“Harry,” Sirius said, “spit it out.”

“Remus,” Harry said awkwardly. “What would he have thought about this?”

“Honestly, Harry?” Sirius said with a soft sigh as he adjusted his position and began to lead Harry out of the nursery-in-progress, “I haven't the foggiest idea; I ask myself that every day.” He paused, and did not speak again until they'd made it back to their own bedroom, and Sirius urged Harry down onto the bed, while Sirius lay next to him and pressed his palm to the small bulge of his stomach, rubbing the sensitive skin gently while he continued, “sometimes...I think he'd be understanding. Perhaps not _fine_ with it, but he'd've understood that we didn't choose this, it just...happened. Other times, I wonder if he would have been more determined to find a way to break it, and...” he trailed off, and his face flushed with shame.

“Sirius,” Harry hedged, “d'you think Remus would have tried to break the curse to get you back?”

Sirius froze, and he stared at Harry with wide eyes.

“W-what did you just say?” Sirius whispered, his palm still flat against Harry's abdomen. Harry swallowed nervously, reached out a mildly shaking hand, and laid it over Sirius's gently.

“I sort of...heard about you and Remus,” Harry explained, his voice quivering a little as he braced himself, just in case Sirius reacted badly to the news. “I'm not jealous or upset or anything, and I won't pry, but I just wanted you to know that I knew, and it's okay if you still love him. He was a good man.”

Sirius sniffed sharply as tears suddenly welled in his eyes, and did not speak as he laid his head on Harry's shoulder while he adjusted his hand so that his and Harry's fingers were laced together. Harry turned his head a little to brush a kiss against Sirius's forehead, and at the same time moved his free hand to stroke the older man's long locks. Harry could feel the wetness of Sirius's tears dampening the shoulder of his shirt, but he did not speak as Sirius lay there, and allowed Harry to hold him.

 

**6 th March, 2009**

“You feel up to doing something today?” Sirius asked conversationally while Harry laid out a breakfast of toast, eggs, and bacon.

Harry blinked in response to the question; there was something odd in Sirius's tone. He sounded nervous, conflicted, and excited, though at the same time he seemed to be tired and elegiac, as though whatever was on his mind had exploded in him a myriad of conflicting thoughts.

“Er...yeah, sure,” Harry said with a small shrug. “I feel fine, we can do whatever you like.”

“I'd like to go to Cokeworth today with you, if that's all right.”

“ _Cokeworth_?” Harry asked, blinking bemusedly. “What for?”

“There's something there that I want to show you,” Sirius replied enigmatically, and Harry raised his eyebrows at his husband, but Sirius did not explain further, and instead tucked into his breakfast without another word.

 

Harry was deeply curious about why Sirius was taking him to _Cokeworth,_ of all places, but despite his repeated questions, Sirius would not say anything beyond, “you'll see.”

The pair got dressed, Sirius insisting that Harry wear nicer clothes than he normally would have, and Harry found himself in his emerald-green angora jumper that Sirius had gotten him for Christmas one year, as well as a pair of dark slacks. In contrast, Sirius had dressed in much more casual clothes—a pair of old, ratty, frayed jeans that seemed to be almost too tight on him (not that Harry was complaining, given that they made his husband's arse look _amazing_ ), as well as a white V-neck T-shirt and his old black leather jacket and biking boots. He could have been Johnny Rotten's flatmate for how he looked, though Harry couldn't fathom why Sirius had insisted that Harry dress _nicely,_ while he had donned attire that made him look he was going to a concert.

As a final touch, Sirius stepped outside momentarily, and returned with a modest bouquet of flowers picked from their garden, primarily purple and white crocuses, given how early in the season it still was. At first, Harry had thought they were for him, but when Sirius did not offer them to him, he had to assume that they had something to do with why they were headed to such a random location.

“Ready to go?” Sirius asked as he sidled up to Harry, and kissed his lips lightly.

“Are you going to tell me now why we're going to Cokeworth?” Harry asked teasingly, and Sirius chuckled as he moved in for another kiss.

“Nope,” he replied, and grinned as he turned towards the Cabinet as he said, “come on, let's go.”

 

Sirius guided Harry into the Cabinet, and scribbled something on the parchment before he fed it into the piece of furniture. When they stepped back out, Harry was subject to a building he had not expected to ever see again, and he felt a cold chill of familiarity rush through him.

“Harry?” Sirius prompted, “are you all right?”

“Yeah, I...” Harry gazed up from the alley where they stood, and to the building across the street.

_Railview Hotel_

“That's where my aunt and uncle took me and Dudley when they were running from my Hogwarts letters,” Harry said, laughing weakly as he gazed at the structure. “I never thought I'd ever see this old place again.”

“ _Running away from your Hogwarts letters_?” Sirius asked with an incredulous laugh as he stepped up to his husband and looped an arm around his shoulders as he, too, gazed up at it.

“Did I never tell you?” Harry asked with a small grin, “when my letters first started to show up, my aunt and uncle didn't want me going, so they packed us up in the car and went on the run, trying to avoid the Hogwarts owls, and eventually we ended up in this dingy little shack on a rock in the middle of the sea before Hagrid finally caught up with us. It was miserable, but looking back, it's probably the closest they ever came to doing something _for_ me, instead of _to_ me.”

Sirius appeared to be at a loss for what to say, and instead of speaking, he dropped his arm to Harry's waist, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Harry smiled a little as he mirrored Sirius, coiling an arm around his middle as he leant into his side.

Sirius paused long enough to cast a Disillusionment Charm upon the Cabinet before he turned and led Harry away, never once looking back towards the hotel as it faded into the distance, along with his miserable memories of his childhood.

Sirius led Harry through the winding streets of the town, his face set with a calm, blank expression, like he was bracing himself for something, though Harry had no idea what that something could be.

 

Harry felt a cold chill run through him as they slowed to a stop outside of a cemetery. It was a simple muggle cemetery by the look of it—large, sprawling fields of green dotted with trees, and row upon row of gravestones.

“Sirius,” Harry breathed, his voice escaping him as a tremble, “what is this?”

“It's all right, love,” Sirius murmured as he moved in to kiss him, and he rubbed his back gently. “This is important to me, but it's nothing bad, I promise.”

Harry nodded as he struggled to get a handle on his emotions, and took Sirius's hand as the older man led him through the iron-wrought gates, and down the paved road that cut the cemetery in two, following it for a silent ten minutes before Sirius veered off the path, and towards a collection of six grave markers, and suddenly, Harry understood.

 

_Remus John Lupin, born 6 March, 1960, died 2 May, 1998_

_Nymphadora Lupin, born 12 August, 1973, died 2 May, 1998_

_Beloved Parents_

Next to them, Harry spotted grave markers for Remus's parents and paternal grandparents, and in front of Remus and Tonks's graves were two bouquets of flowers.

“Teddy and Andromeda must've stopped by already,” Sirius said more to himself than to Harry as he crouched down and brushed his hand across the top of the pale marble. His voice was thick and croaky, as though he was just barely holding back tears. He laid down his little bouquet alongside the other two, then stood up and took Harry's hand again.

“Remus,” Sirius said, his voice still thick with emotion as he addressed his dead friend and former lover. “I have come to your grave every year on your birthday to mourn what I have lost. I loved you will all my heart, all my soul, and because I was a stupid prat, I pushed you away, and towards someone who could give you what you needed, regardless if you thought you deserved it or not. Tonks loved you, and I am happy—”

Sirius paused when his voice caught, and took a shuddering breath before he continued, tears streaming down his cheeks as he spoke.

“I—I am happy that you had her,” he said, “but this is the last time that I will come here. I brought Harry this time to introduce him to you...as my husband. I love him, Remus, and though I loved you too, it's different. Harry completes me in a way you didn't, and maybe _couldn't_. He's also carrying our child right now, and I am so proud of how strong he is, and how patient he is with me. You know better than most that I was never the easiest person to love, but he does it effortlessly. I hope that you can give us your blessing, and can accept our relationship and family as it grows.”

The sky, heavily overcast with the promise of rain abruptly parted as Sirius fell silent. A single beam of light fell across Remus's side of the large gravestone, Harry smiled as he wrapped an arm around Sirius's waist, and arched up to press a kiss to his husband's cheek.

“I think he's okay with it,” Harry murmured, and Sirius smiled weakly.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but abruptly closed it, uncertain whether he should say anything, or allow it to be a quiet moment. Harry continued to hold his husband, rubbing his back consolingly as they stood there, and waited patiently until Sirius felt ready to leave.

  **  
**

**8 th April, 2009**

“Hello, Harry,” Helen said kindly as he stepped into her office, and Harry offered her a small smile in greeting. “You've gotten quite big since I last saw you; how does it feel?”

“Like I've swallowed a Quaffle,” Harry admitted as he sat down and pressed a hand to his baby bump, and he laughed weakly. “It's a lot smaller than I thought, though, but the healer said that the baby's completely healthy.”

“You're at the end of your second trimester, correct?”

“Just past twenty-four weeks, yeah,” Harry replied with a small nod. “Hermione says I'm lucky that the baby is so small...she was _huge_ when she was pregnant with Rose.”

“First pregnancies in women are generally smaller, and get bigger the more children that they have, as there is more room for the fœtus to grow,” the mind healer explained patiently. “With male pregnancies, the babies are always smaller because the uterus is artificial. It doesn't mean they will have a stunted growth, however, they will grow normally once they're born.”

“How do you know all this?” Harry asked curiously, and cocked his head to the side as he gazed at her, and Helen offered him a small smile.

“I have a relative who went through the procedure four times,” she explained, “his babies were always fairly small, but grew up perfectly normal.”

“ _Four?_ ” Harry squeaked, “I can barely imagine going through this more than _once_.”

“Everyone has different thresholds for what they are willing to do for the family that they want,” Helen replied with another warm smile. “Just because he had four does not mean that you have to.”

“I—I know that, but it's just... _four_. Wow.”

“Yes, wow indeed,” she replied with a small laugh. “But we are not here to talk about me. How have things been for you since our last session? Is there anything you wish to talk about today?”

“Well,” Harry paused and chewed the inside of his cheek, “I...er, brought Sirius, like you suggested. He's waiting outside, I told him that you'd go get him when it was time to.”

“That's good, Harry,” Helen said encouragingly, her smile broadening a little. “We will talk about that in a moment, if that's all right. Now, session before last, you were struggling with feeling emasculated by this pregnancy. How are you feeling about it now? Is there any change, or are you still having difficulties with it?”

“It's...better,” Harry replied as he smiled a little. “Sirius has been helping a lot. Since about my nineteenth week my emotions are less ragey, so there's been a lot less tension in the house. I still get emotional easily, and my weird food fixations are grossing Sirius out, but I think that's the most bad pregnancy-centric things. Plus, people I know—like my friends—have been pretty good about not touching my stomach or anything without asking me first, so that has helped me be able to deal with it better.”

“How so?” she asked, “how is your consent helping with your acceptance of the pregnancy?”

“Well, if I'm having an off-day where I'm feeling extra emotional, I sometimes just want _no_ attention directed at the baby, and other times, I'm more okay with it. It feels like...like...the power hasn't been taken away from me, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Helen agreed, “that is wonderful to hear, Harry, truly. Body autonomy, especially in a situation like this, is very important. Even if the situation were different, if, for example, you wanted this pregnancy with all your heart and soul, and felt none of your wavering uncertainty, it is still not okay for people to touch your stomach or discuss your pregnancy without your consent. Never be afraid to demand respect—you deserve to be treated with love.” Harry smiled bashfully, and directed his gaze at his lap as Helen posed her next question.

“Now, you also said a few more things I think it would be good to discuss; you are still getting emotional? About what, in particular?”

“It's nothing, erm, _bad_ , I think,” Harry said as he looked back up, “just random things I think from my hormones being all wonky. For example, Sirius keeps getting me pastries from this bakery in town that I like, and the other day they sent a gift basket for me, sort of a baby shower type gift—there were things from their shop, but also home spa treatment things like exfoliating creams and stretch mark salve and stuff, and a few toys and garments for the baby, even a little stuffed bear with their bakery's logo on it. I was really surprised and overwhelmed and just sort of...started sobbing.”

“No, that is a fairly normal reaction, I agree,” Helen said with a small, warm laugh. “Next, your eating habits. Are you eating balanced meals? You said something about _weird food fixations_?”

“No, I'm eating right. Sirius has threatened to hex me more than once when it comes to what I eat, but the latest thing is peanut butter and mashed sardines on toast, and—” Harry broke off with a laugh when he saw Helen's eye twitch. “I saw that.”

“I'm sorry, Harry, it's just that doesn't sound at _all_ appealing,” she said with a warm laugh, and Harry responded with a grin of his own. “There is one last thing I wish to touch on, then we can bring Sirius in if you like, and that is the fact that you mentioned you passed your eighteenth week.”

“Yeah, I'm just past twenty-four weeks now, like I said,” Harry replied with an affirming nod.

“I am just curious if you know what the sex of the baby will be, and how you feel about that,” Helen said. “Eighteen weeks is the earliest most healers can tell the sex of the child, you see.”

“Oh, yeah, they asked us and everything, but Sirius and I want it to be a surprise,” Harry said with a vague shrug. “I'm sort of glad that Sirius is on the same page as me in that respect. I mean, for him, he's just excited about the baby either way, but I'm really hoping for a boy. If it's a girl, we'll have to go through this all again to fulfill the requirements of a male heir for the _Potestas_ curse.”

“And if it is a girl, how do you think you would feel about that?” the mind healer asked, “do you feel as though you may love her less because it?”

“Of course not!” Harry sputtered as he frowned at her, but Helen did not react to his outburst while she waited for him to continue. “It's not her fault that she was born a girl, so why should I blame her for it? I'd be more upset for me, not my child. I know I'll love this child regardless what it is, I just don't want another after this, so I'm really hoping for a boy, that's all.”

“Really?” she asked, “from our previous talks, I had gotten the impression that you always wanted a big family, Harry.”

“I do—I mean, I did,” Harry paused as he tried to gather his thoughts, and he heaved a sigh as he buried his face in his hands. “This is the last one I want to _carry_. Sirius has said that if it's a girl, or if we want another, he'd be fine with carrying it, but I worry. He's forty-nine. In a few months, he'll be fifty. The healer and Hermione _both_ told us that it'd be dangerous for someone his age to carry a child, since it's a risky procedure, and it's so hard on the body, so I don't know if his offer to carry a child is bravado or genuine, and I don't want him to feel obligated to do it, either...”

“Harry, from what you have told me, Sirius loves you very deeply—”

“—he does, that's sort of the problem.”

“Problem?”

“If I asked him for...for...I don't know, a castle made out of solid gold, he'd find a way to get it for me. He spoils me, I know that, and the second he saw how much I hated this whole pregnancy thing, he offered to carry our next child if it turned out to be a girl, or if we decide to have another. I feel like he just said it because he wants to keep me happy, but...does he think I'll leave him if he didn't agree to do that?”

“That's not something I can answer, Harry,” Helen said consolingly, “One of the most important things in any marriage is _communication_ , and there is only one person who can clarify what their intentions are on that front...”

“Sirius,” Harry filled in with a small nod, and Helen smiled.

“Exactly,” she replied, and smiled a little. “Now, are you ready to bring him in?”

“Think so, yeah,” Harry said as he sighed heavily as he braced himself for whatever was to come next. “Okay, let's do this.”

Helen nodded her head once, stood up, and headed for the waiting room to fetch Sirius.


	13. False Starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Update Day s being moved to Sundays, so the next update will be May 27th. Due to Last Week of Classes, I didn't have as much time as usual to edit, but I hope that you guys enjoy this one nonetheless! ^.^

Chapter Thirteen – False Starts

**8th April, 2009**

Harry chewed nervously on the side of his pointer finger's cuticles as Helen stood up and slipped out of the small office, returning a moment later with a slightly apprehensive-looking Sirius. Harry couldn't completely blame him for looking nervous, given how little detail he'd given his husband as to _why_ he wanted to have him sit in on one of his sessions.

When he at last took the seat alongside Harry, despite his agitated demeanour, he merely offered Harry a small smile, and gently pried his hand away from his mouth, before lacing their fingers together.

“Thank you for joining us today, Sirius,” Helen said kindly, and Sirius offered her a small smile.

“Happy to do it,” he replied, and it sounded as though he truly meant it, and was not just saying it for Helen or Harry's benefit.

“Do you know why Harry asked you here today?”

“Not a bastard clue,” Sirius said, and smirked a little when Helen laughed softly. “He was a bit vague, but said that it was nothing bad, but he thought it'd be good for me to come, so I wasn't much worried.”

“That's good to hear, and by and large, true, as far as I am aware,” Helen said, “Harry has always talked about you positively, and it's quite clear that he loves you very much.”

Sirius beamed, and Harry squeezed the older man's hand lightly to reaffirm the mind healer's words.

“Although,” she continued, making Sirius's smile falter, “I do have a few concerns, as does Harry, and that is why I asked you to come with him today.”

“Concerns?” Sirius repeated, “about what?”

“Well...” Helen paused, and brought her finger to her lip, and she tapped it thoughtfully. “Harry, would you like to begin, or shall I?”

“No, I probably should,” Harry said, swallowing nervously as he turned his full attention to his husband, and squeezed the older man's hand gently before he spoke.

“Sirius,” Harry began, “I want you to know first that I love you.” He paused when Sirius beamed at him, and he smiled warmly in return. “I love you so, so, _so_ much, more than I ever thought I could, and I think...I think to keep things good, we need to talk sometimes about stuff we'd rather not talk about. But since both of us can be so pigheaded about things, Helen thought it might be a good idea for us to see her together, to sort of clear the air on where we're both at mentally, both with the pregnancy and...er... _other stuff_.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, his voice wavering a little as he spoke, but it was clear to Harry that he was trying to keep an open mind. “What sort of stuff do you think needs to be addressed, Harry?”

“Well...first, as you know, this pregnancy has been hard for me,” Harry said. “More mentally than physically, and so that has led to stress with the both of us...” Harry trailed off, uncertain what to say, and Helen interjected before Sirius had the time to jump to any wild conclusions.

“Because of the dramatic bodily changes that Harry is experiencing, Harry has expressed to me that it has been very stressful for him, and as I understand it, it has led to some fairly heated rows between the two of you,” she said, and Sirius frowned.

“Well, yeah...all couples fight, and during a pregnancy emotions tend to run extra-high. All I'm trying to do is support him. I'm excited to be a dad, and...” he trailed off with a wince, and Harry struggled to keep his expression neutral—he had a feeling that he knew where the discussion was headed.

“And...?” Helen asked gently. “You're excited for fatherhood, but can you say the same for Harry?”

Sirius answered with silence, and Harry frowned at him, while the mind healer appeared undeterred as she tried again, “has Harry been the very epitome of a joyful, expectant father?”

Again, Sirius did not respond.

“Sirius, please,” Harry said softly, “this will help, I promise.”

“No,” he said with a heavy sigh, “Harry hasn't been exactly excited about being a dad.”

“And why do you think that is?” Helen asked, and Sirius squirmed in his seat, his gaze flitting guiltily to Harry for a moment before he spoke again.

“Because...because— _fuck_ , this is hard—because I know he's not ready to be a dad, and...” Sirius paused again, casting another guilty look to Harry before he said, “sometimes I think he doesn't even _want_ this kid.”

“Sirius,” Harry said softly, his chest aching from the admittance, like he'd been slapped in the face, but Sirius did not respond to him, his entire focus still fixed upon the mind healer.

“I—I never bring it up because I'm afraid Harry won't feel supported,” Sirius continued, hanging his head guiltily, “and I know that right now especially, he needs that more than anything. I want to make sure he knows that he's not just loved, and wanted, and all the rest...he's completely essential.” Sirius paused, and lifted his gaze to Harry, who smiled at the older man warmly. “He's my world, I love him more than anything, and I never want to hurt him, and it sort of...spirals when we argue.”

“Is that why you're always trying to bring me the world on a plate?” Harry asked, his tone almost teasing, and Sirius smiled at him weakly. “You know I love you too, right? Regardless whether you and I spend a weekend in Venice, or at home. Maybe the start of our relationship was a bit rocky, but things are good now, and always getting better. You make me feel like I can do this, I never would have without you. And the child...yeah, I admit, at first I really didn't want any of this, but now...” Harry paused and squeezed Sirius's hand again. “Now, I want them in my life. If something happened to the baby, I _know_ I'd be just as broken up about it as you. I wish you had told me sooner, so I could've maybe relaxed some of your fears.”

“Harry...” Sirius murmured, his eyes shining a little as he gazed at him.

“I love you for who you are, Sirius,” Harry continued, shifting a little to clasp both hands over one of Sirius's. “Not for what you can give me. I do enjoy those times when you get a little extravagant—it's fun, but it's not necessary. I won't love you any less if you suddenly stopped doing it. I love you regardless, but when we have a row, it hurts more _because_ I love you so much.”

“Do you hear what Harry is saying, Sirius?” Helen asked gently. “Harry loves you very much. Can you imagine then how he might feel when you storm off after a row, with no idea where you are going, and no idea when you will return? Can you imagine how that might feel for someone with Harry's background?”

Harry watched and waited as Sirius's lips moved, repeating, “ _someone with Harry's background,_ ” under his breath several times before his eyes went wide with understanding.

“Oh, baby, you don't really think that, do you?” Sirius asked, and Harry offered him a weak, apologetic smile.

“I can't help it,” Harry admitted, “I just...you storm off to cool down, and I know logically you've _just_ gone to chain smoke and calm down, but my mind starts asking things like, “ _what if he doesn't come back? What will you do then?”_ And that's why I'm usually still so bloody cross when you get back.”

“I...Harry, I...you know I never meant it like that...” Sirius said weakly, and he turned his gaze from Harry to the mind healer, his expression shifting from anguished to panicked.

“That is why it may be a good idea to come up with an alternative, Sirius,” Helen interjected. “I think we need to find something you can do where it enables you to have some space to calm down, but also reassures Harry that you don't plan to leave him on his own.” She paused, and added, “it isn't Harry's common sense making him think that you will leave him, and logically, you and I both know that he loves you and trusts you, but sometimes our thoughts get away from us, and even outlandish things like this will seem much more real, in particular the longer we think on it.”

“But...Harry...” Sirius said, his tone making it quite clear that he was grasping to understand Harry's state of mind. “You _know_ that I love you. How could you even think that I'd ever want to leave? After the cemetery?”

“I don't,” Harry replied, “seriously, I don't, but when you storm off like that I panic, and my worries just...spiral. That's part of why we're here, to fix all this stuff.”

“What happened at the Cemetery, Harry?” Helen asked, drawing Harry and Sirius our of their heated discussion. “What was pivotal about that?”

“Um...well,” Harry glanced at Sirius, silently asking permission, and he nodded his head once, though he did not look very happy about it. “Erm...before me, Sirius had a significant other. He died during the war, and...well, on this lover's birthday, he took me to his grave, and proclaimed that even though he had loved this man, he loved me now, and...” Harry trailed off, uncertain how much Sirius wanted him to say, and he squeezed his husband's hand again. “I know how hard it was for Sirius to do that, and I _know_ he loves me, but I can't help how I react when we argue and he storms off.”

“I see,” Helen said as she shifted her gaze to Sirius. “That must have been very difficult for you; you must have loved this man very much.”

“I did, yes,” Sirius replied, his tone on the side of stiff, and his entire body language all but screaming _I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it_.

Despite this, the mind healer pushed on anyway.

“And did you leave him, or did he—”

“—he left me,” Sirius mumbled, his voice soft and sullen, making it quite plain that Sirius did not want to discuss it, but Helen continued to broach the topic regardless.

“And do you fear Harry leaving you, because of how things ended with him?”she asked, but Sirius did not respond, and instead pulled his hand from Harry's, crossed his arms, and fixed his gaze upon his feet. “Do you worry about Harry leaving you, or perhaps pushing him away?”

“No, the situation is entirely different,” Sirius replied sourly, once again stubbornly refusing to meet the gaze of Harry or the mind healer. Harry pursed his lips, frustrated by Sirius's attitude, but the mind healer spoke again before Harry had a chance to.

“How is it different, Sirius?”

“It just _is_ ,” Sirius grumbled. “I don't want to discuss it, I'm done—I don't want to talk anymore.”

  
Despite the dual efforts of Harry and Helen, Sirius would not speak another word during the session. They had clearly touched a nerve—one Sirius did not wish to speak on, and it was clear that Sirius could not bring himself to say anything more on the subject of Remus, regardless how helpful it would have been.

Eventually, Harry and Helen agreed to end their session a little early. Both saw no point in continuing when Sirius was unwilling to participate, and they scheduled another appointment for a fortnight later.

“C'mon, Sirius,” Harry said sullenly, “we're going.”

Sirius followed Harry's lead robotically, clearly in reaction to a traumatic event he wouldn't—or possibly _couldn't_ —discuss, Harry found it difficult to not be cross with him for ruining their first chance to clear the air before the baby came.

Harry guided his husband into the Vanishing Cabinet, then upon returning home, he coaxed the older man down onto the sofa, and headed to the kitchen to make some tea. Harry's hands were shaking in frustration at Sirius's attitude, but none of his anger showed on his face as he tried to remain calm and supportive to his husband's apparent meltdown. Harry got Sirius's favourite lavender shortbread down from the pantry, and laid it on the tea tray along with some cucumber sandwiches, and the tea prepared just how Sirius liked it. Harry smiled to himself; despite Sirius's near-constant attempts to distance himself from his family, his tastes remained determinedly aristocratic—not that Harry was brave enough to point that out.

Harry picked the tea tray up and carried it out to the sitting room, where Sirius was still perched like a marionette, unmoving, and barely blinking.

“Sirius?” Harry asked softly as he set the tray down on the table and sat at his husband's side. “Sirius, please, won't you talk to me? You're starting to scare me.”

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Sirius mumbled softly, finally turning his head towards him. “I've really mucked things up today, haven't I?”

“No, no, of course not,” Harry said, and Sirius eyed him dubiously. “Well, all right, yes, you have, but it's okay. Seeing a mind healer, you don't fix everything all at once, it's a process.”

“I don't know what I expected, but her bringing up Remus...” Sirius sighed heavily, a look of guilt flooding his eyes. “I'm sorry, love, it's still hard to talk about.”

“You're allowed to not talk about things when we talk to a mind healer, but shutting down like you did wasn't helpful,” Harry said. “And if you don't want to talk about Remus, that's okay too.”

“I don't want to go back, Harry,” Sirius said, “it's fine if you still want to see her, but discussing all these things...it's too much for me.”

“Okay,” Harry said as he leant in and offered Sirius a small kiss. “But for the record, I think it would be good for you to talk about it.”

  
They didn't speak on their abrupt exit from St. Mungo's for the rest of the day. There was a heavy awkwardness that had settled over the couple as they had their tea, read, took a walk, and had dinner. It was well after they'd settled into bed that Sirius finally spoke again, one arm draped over Harry's waist, cradling the swell of his stomach through his loose T-shirt, as though he was trying to preemptively hold their child.

“Remus left me...because I pushed, and I didn't know how to stop,” Sirius said softly, his voice barely above a whisper while his kept his gaze down. Harry turned towards him, putting his glasses back on, and he dropped his hand to cover Sirius's in a silent bid for him to continue.

“We had been together from sixth year on, and we were happy. You know that couple that was always obnoxiously happy? That was us, and after I got out of Azkaban, we tried again. Letters at first, then meetings...it was going well, and I asked Remus to marry me. I loved him so much, I couldn't imagine my life without him, and it was rather a shock when he refused.

“I think it was a self-esteem thing,” Sirius continued, “I thought it then, and I still think so now. Remus never understood why any of us would befriend him, or love him, like...because of what he was, he somehow didn't deserve it. I didn't understand, so I pushed the issue. I brought it up again and again, and Remus asked me, “why can't we just be lovers? Why isn't that enough for you?” and...I told him I didn't want just a lover, I wanted a husband.

“He packed up and left that night, that was...just before the battle at the Ministry. I went in ready to die, but by some fluke, I survived, and the next year...well, you know. Tonks swept him off his feet, and gave him whatever I couldn't, and then, a year after that...”

Sirius fell silent, his face riddled with guilt and anguish. Harry reached out tentatively, and stroked his husband's cheek. The older man's eyes slid shut, and he leant into the touch with a soft sigh, very much like his Animagus counterpart.

“How come you feel okay to tell me now, when you didn't before?” Harry asked softly, and Sirius chuckled a little.

“It felt... _odd_ to talk to a stranger about my problems,” Sirius replied. “I feel fine telling you, because I know you won't judge me for how I acted, because you know me.”

“Thank you for telling me, Sirius,” Harry said as he leant in and kissed his husband lightly. “I know that there's a piece of you that belongs to Remus—a piece I can't touch. I'm fine with that; Remus was special to all of us, and it's okay to miss him even though you and I are together now.”

“How did you get so perfect?”

“I learnt from the best,” Harry teased, and moved in to kiss him again. “Are we good?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied softly, “we're good.”

  
**21st April, 2009**

The following fortnight passed with a heavy awkwardness on the air. Harry had made it quite plain that he wanted Sirius to return with him to the mind healer, while Sirius point-blank refused to go.

Privately, Harry thought that his husband was being rather childish about the whole thing, but he didn't push it—more than anything else, he knew that choosing to see a mind healer was a deeply personal thing. Though Sirius was his husband, Harry did not feel that it was his place to pressure him into going. Thankfully, he and Sirius had another regular healer visit to distract them, which came as something of a godsend to break up the Hippogriff-In-The-Room atmosphere.

  
“Good afternoon, Mr Potter-Black and Mr Potter-Black,” Healer Singh greeted as the couple stepped into the examination room. “And how are you feeling today, Harry?”

“Okay,” Harry replied with a vague shrug as he sat down in one of the available chairs. “Bit of heartburn, but I suppose that's normal at this stage?”

“Some people experience heartburn all the way through their pregnancy, so it is normal, yes. I can prescribe some Arctostaphylos tonic if you like, it might help.”

“Is it safe for the baby?” Harry asked, and Healer Singh smiled as she nodded her head.

“Yes, completely safe. It is considered an overall wellness tonic, but in particular it helps with nausea. The kind I am prescribing you is also infused with peppermint, which will help with the heartburn. It's about as strong as muggle Sandoz Pantoprazole, and as such, should help a great deal.”

“I haven't a clue what that is, so I'll take your word for it,” Harry replied, and Sirius chuckled next to him.

“A strong heartburn medication,” she said with a chortle of her own, then patted the Birth Image chair. “Now, hop on up, and we'll see how your baby is doing today.”

With Sirius still holding onto his hand, Harry got up and stepped over to the chair, where he rolled up his jumper and T-shirt to expose his belly.

Unlike the glossy adverts for pregnancy-related items Harry had sometimes seen, his own stomach was not what he considered to be attractive. Now that he was further along angry red stretch marks had begun to spiderweb on his sides, and looking down at himself made him feel strange and uneasy. He didn't dare mention it to Sirius, given how upset he always got whenever Harry complained about his appearance, but he dearly hoped that that particular side-effect of the pregnancy would be reversible.

_Maybe Sirius's vanity is finally rubbing off on me..._ Harry mused idly while the healer spread the salve over Harry's stomach, set up the parchment, and pressed the tip of her wand to Harry's stomach.

“Now, let's see...” Healer Singh said as the image of their child materialized on the parchment. She moved her wand, showing Harry and Sirius an outline of the baby, and Harry smiled at the sight of it. It was hard to believe that it was only ten to twelve more weeks until he could finally meet the little beast that had been growing inside him. “Heartbeat is nice and strong, all the organs look good, the lungs are a _little_ small, but nothing to worry about at this stage, I think. Sometimes magic babies develop out of order. When I see you in a fortnight if they are still on the small side, I may have to give you a potion to adjust that...”

“How small is small?” Harry interrupted, “will my kid be able to breathe once they're born?”

“If your child was born prematurely, they would struggle, yes, not unlike a moderate case of muggle asthma. In my professional opinion, I do not think it is something that you need to worry about, Harry, the healer said patiently. “We can use potions to encourage your child's lungs to grow to the normal size, and they will experience no negative side effects because of it.

“Stress will only risk a premature labour, one which you would not be able to see through, given that you are a man. Trying to give birth to your child naturally is impossible, and would only hurt you and the baby, so the less stress, the better.”

_I wish she hadn't said that with Sirius in the room,_ Harry thought sourly as Healer Singh finished up and cleaned off his stomach, before writing out his heartburn potion prescription, _he'll be a bloody nightmare about keeping me relaxed now._

“Now, some relaxation, and I will see you in a fortnight, Harry,” Healer Singh said with a warm smile as she handed over the small scroll of parchment, “is there anything else you or Sirius need to ask, or are concerned about?”

“No, but could I get a few extra copies of the ultra—erm, Birth Image Charm photos? I want to send one to my friends,” Harry said, and flushed red when Sirius beamed at him.

“Of course,” the healer replied, and offered Harry a smile of her own.

~*~

Once Harry and Sirius got home, Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius wanted to talk to him, but apparently couldn't quite get the words out. Instead, he watched Harry scrawl a quick note to Ron and Hermione on the back of the Birth Image picture ( _26 weeks, I can't wait until this little bugger is out of me_ ), and sent it off, while Sirius had taken to the task of putting together a tea tray for them.

When Harry did at last step over to the sofa where Sirius was waiting, he found his husband staring down at the latest Birth Image photo, his brow pinched in contemplation. When Harry reached out his hand, Sirius glanced up, and offered Harry a warm smile.

“When's your next mind healer appointment?” he asked, and Harry eyed him curiously. This had hardly been the subject he'd been expecting.

“Thursday,” Harry replied, “I was going to go alone, but I'd rather you come with me.”

“Seeing this mind healer...it's important to you, isn't it?”

“It's not just for me,” Harry said simply, “it's for you, and for the baby too. I want to be here for you both, and I can't do that if I'm an emotional wreck.”

“Can I...” Sirius trailed off, and bit his lip. “Can I come? I'm sorry about last time, but...you have it right. We both need to be as good as we can, if not for us, then for our child.”

Harry blinked tears from his eyes as he lurched forward and kissed Sirius hard.

“Oh, Sirius, it makes me so happy to hear you say that, of _course_ you can come,” Harry said, while Sirius chuckled as Harry kissed him again. “I love you, you know that, right? I _love_ you, and not just because you said that.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Sirius murmured as he drew Harry in for another kiss. “Just...doing this...it's hard for me.”

“I know,” Harry echoed, “but you're doing it anyway, like a true Gryffindor.”

At that, Sirius barked a loud laugh, and Harry beamed at his husband.


	14. Celebrations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update is scheduled for June 10th. Enjoy :)

Chapter Fourteen – Celebrations

 

**24 th April, 2009**

Harry stretched out upon the lawn, a lazy smile on his face as the plush grass pillowed his back, and he gazed at the multicoloured tulips that had begun to spring up in their garden. His smile widened incrementally as he reached out to touch one of the red petals, and laughed to himself at the way the silky flora seemed to slide through his fingers.

“What on _Earth_ are you doing?” a voice said, the sound of it warm with amusement, and Harry sat up a little to grin at his husband, who was standing by the side of the house and smiling at him.

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Harry asked teasingly as Sirius began to make his approach, and flopped down in the grass next to Harry.

“Well, for starters, it looks like you're getting yourself in a position where our little sprog is gonna keep you from getting up on your own,” Sirius teased, and Harry snorted.

“ _Please_ , it's not that big yet...” Harry replied as he ran a hand over his stomach, and hissed in surprise when he felt the gurgle of movement. Quickly, he grabbed Sirius's hand, hand rested it against his stomach in time for Sirius to feel a small kick.

Harry was almost immediately gifted with a bright smile, and he grinned at his husband.

“I also read that the limpet's heartbeat can be heard through my stomach by now,” Harry added, and Sirius snorted.

“Limpet?” he asked, “wouldn't leech or tick be a better nickname?”

“Well, I'm pretty sure the tiny beast in my stomach isn't going to give me Lyme disease or...whatever leeches give you. Besides, _technically,_ they are a tumour baby.”

“Tumour baby?”

“I can't give birth to them, so they won't be birthed, they'll be _removed_ ,” Harry pointed out with a grin, and Sirius snorted.

“Tumour baby,” Sirius echoed while Harry giggled. “Oh yeah, this poor kid is going to be scarred for _life._ ”

“We are terrible people,” Harry said between rounds of laughter, while Sirius ran his hand over Harry's stomach gently, causing the baby to kick again.

“We are, but we're _stable_ terrible people, so that's something at least.”

“How did it feel, talking all about Remus yesterday when you asked me to step out of the room?” Harry asked as he tried to roll on his side, but couldn't quite manage the balance, and fell onto his back with a small grunt.

To make up for it, Sirius inched closer and rested his head on Harry's collarbone, a catlike smile on his face as he said, “it was...weird. I haven't talked about our relationship in _years_. But it was...good. Cathartic. That mind healer of yours asks a _lot_ of questions.”

“That's sort of the point, love,” Harry said as he began to stroke Sirius's hair gently. “To get to the root of all your issues.”

“I...liked it,” Sirius said, and Harry's eyes widened a little in surprise. “Really. I mean...I understand now why you always looked so tired after, but those hamburgers after our sessions really helped...although if I ever have to watch you put _peanut butter_ on a bacon cheeseburger ever again, I will probably be in that mind healer's office for the rest of my _life_.”

“I like peanut butter on my meat,” Harry teased, grinning a little at the pun as he arched an eyebrow at Sirius. “You know—”

“—no,” Sirius interrupted. “I know what you're going to say, and _no_.”

“I'll only use smooth peanut butter,” Harry promised as he continued to grin, “I won't scratch you up with the crunchy kind.”

“You keep your weird peanut butter fetish _away_ from my cock!”

“Oh, please?” Harry whined, “please let me slather your cock with peanut butter!”

“No _way,_ ” Sirius said, “food and sex do not mix like that.”

“All right, all right,” Harry said with a warm chuckle, “I'll leave the peanut butter out of the bedroom.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said as he stretched out on the grass next to him, letting out a luxuriated sigh as Harry smiled and draped an arm across his husband's waist. As he did so, Sirius smiled, and Harry mirrored it.

“I can't believe how... _calm_ I feel right now,” Harry said softly as he rested his head against Sirius's shoulder in a mirror move to how he'd been holding the older man mere moments before. “So...happy. Like this is right, or something. You make me feel so good all the time, and it's still amazing to me.”

“I _love_ hearing you say that,” Sirius murmured as he moved in to kiss him, and Harry happily returned it, letting out a small laugh as he felt the faint gurgle of movement in his stomach, and thanks to their position, he knew that Sirius would be able to feel it too.

 

**17 th May, 2009**

“Happy thirty weeks,” Sirius said over breakfast as he produced a bouquet of birds of paradise, and Harry brightened at the flowers, though his cheeks flushed at the same time.

“You remembered that these are my favourite,” Harry said as he accepted them, laughing a little as his fingers brushed over the bright orange petals, and Sirius answered with a warm smile. “Is it bad that despite that, it still feels a bit weird to get flowers as a bloke?”

“Just 'cause you're a bloke doesn't mean you don't deserve to get pretty things,” Sirius pointed out teasingly, and Harry chuckled.

“No, I suppose not,” Harry agreed as he lazily summoned a vase and filled it with water before he stood up with a small groan and arranged the flowers nicely. His arms were stretched out as far as they could go from his huge belly getting in the way of doing the task normally while Sirius looked on, a pained expression upon his face.

Harry just barely managed to curb the urge to chuckle at the sight of it; he was well-aware that its cause was from the older man struggling to keep from helping, as though he knew that Harry still got tetchy when Sirius tried to do too many things for him, regardless of his current state.

“I mean,” Harry continued as he sat back down and sliced into his peanut butter omelette with his fork, “I'm having that... _thing_ tonight, so I may as well get used to feeling a bit like a girl for the next little while...”

“It's a baby shower, not a _thing_ ,” Sirius teased lightly, and Harry managed a weak, apologetic smile. “Blokes have them too, it's really not emasculating to sit around, eat cake, and get presents. It's like a pre-birthday for the baby. What's so girly about that?”

“You're right,” Harry said with a small sigh, “and I know you're right, it's just that I still have trouble sometimes, you know, with the _that's just for girls_ sort of mindset. My uncle used to go completely mad if Dudley or me did anything that was even remotely nancy-boyish or girly, or whatever. Even certain sport he thought was just for girls, he wouldn't allow it, even _if_ Dudley was into sport that didn't involve hitting people, which he wasn't...”

Sirius's expression fixed itself into a rather false-looking smile, but he didn't speak. Perhaps he didn't know what to say, but Harry understood the sentiment nonetheless. He felt himself warm with affection for his husband, while at the same time he extended his leg under the table, and hooked his ankle around Sirius's gently. Sirius smiled, and seemed to understand the sentiment without Harry having to say a word.

 

~*~

 

That evening, Harry pulled on his Posh Jumper for the party, and grimaced at the way it now hugged his large, pregnant belly. He felt Sirius step up behind him, rest his hands on Harry's hips, and perched his head on Harry's shoulder.

“Something wrong, love?” Sirius asked, and Harry shook his head a little.

“Not really wrong exactly, I'm just feeling... _fat,_ ” Harry said, but pressed on quickly before Sirius could interject. “I mean, I know it's not _fat-_ fat, just our baby, but it still feels odd, and I don't like getting attention drawn to it, especially now that it's so big, and...” Harry sighed and shook his head. “Sorry.”

Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry's waist, his forearms coming to rest just below his stomach, like he was cradling it. He did not move to try and touch Harry's baby bump, as though hr was aware that his younger husband would not appreciate that sort of contact at the moment. Instead Sirius merely held him, rocking him a little, and Harry could feel Sirius's smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he pressed his stubbly cheek against Harry's.

“I think you're gorgeous, love,” Sirius murmured. “And you're not _fat_. You're carrying our baby. Once they're out, you'll probably feel much better.”

“I know that...” Harry replied as he grimaced a little, and reached down to rest his hands over Sirius's as he tried to figure out how to explain what he was feeling. “Like...logically, I know it's not fat, it's our baby being an unborn baby, but I still...feel fat. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Sirius replied with another chuckle, and moved in to kiss Harry's cheek. “As odd as this may sound to you, it is completely and utterly _normal_. Every pregnant person I've ever met hits that _fat_ point at some time or another. Would you feel more comfortable in a bigger jumper?”

“But this is my _nice_ jumper,” Harry protested, whining a little as he spoke. “I can't show up to the party in my baggy jumper, this is supposed to be a party...”

“Well...” Sirius trailed off as he drew his wand, and pointed it at Harry's jumper and said, “ _engorgio_.”

At first, nothing happened. Harry waited, and waited, but still his jumper remained the same, until the side of his chest began to twinge, and then _ache._

Hastily, Harry pulled away from Sirius and yanked off the article of clothing. When he looked down at himself he nearly fainted. Sirius, in contrast, immediately began to howl with laughter.

“You _bastard!_ ” Harry shrieked as Sirius continued to laugh. “Oi, it's _not_ funny! My nipple is the size of a teacup saucer! Fix it right now!”

Tears streaming from his eyes, Sirius pointed his wand at Harry and returned his nipple back to normal, and then at Harry's jumper, which he increased in size incrementally, so that when he pulled it back on it was only slightly larger than before.

“I hate you,” Harry said, and Sirius grinned.

 

~*~

 

When Harry and Sirius made it to the Burrow an hour later, they were met with a number of cheers and round of applause, the volume heightened even more by the nearby children, who seemed to get even more amped up by the noise. Harry was relieved to see that the Burrow was filled with an even mix of men and women—Molly and Arthur, Hermione and Ron, Bill and Fleur, George and Angelina, Percy and Audrey, and Ginny and Dean, along with Andromeda and all the children.

“Oh, Harry, don't you look _wonderful_ ,” Molly gushed as she stepped forward to offer him a hug. “Positively _glowing_. You must be getting so excited, your little one must be almost ready to come out!”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, smiling weakly as he rubbed at his protruding stomach. “I think I'll be happy to see my own feet again.”

A chorus of laughter followed Harry's words, while Sirius smiled and wrapped an arm around him as he added, “I think I'll be happy when Harry stops dredging _everything_ in peanut butter.”

“Oh, Sirius, please!” Molly said as she swatted his arm, “believe me when I say that that is _nothing_.”

“When Molly was pregnant with Ginny, she popped kippers like crisps,” Arthur added, and Harry snorted as he watched the Weasley matriarch swat his arm playfully.

“Come along, Harry,” she said, “let's get you off your feet.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” Harry said, “and I'm _starving_.”

“I wonder where I've heard that before?” Sirius asked rhetorically, and Harry elbowed him in an effort to shut him up.

 

Molly led them into the parlour where Harry was able to rest on the love seat with Sirius at his side. Several platters of nibbles rested upon the coffee table in front of them, while the surrounding area was virtually buried in parcels.

Uninterested in the idea of gifts at the moment, Harry went straight for the mini-quiches, and popped one in his mouth. When he reached for a second and pointed his wand at it, Sirius laid a hand on his and murmured, “Harry, are you _seriously_ going to combine peanut butter with egg and ham?”

“Don't ask stupid questions,” Harry retorted as he flicked his wand, magically slathering the top of the appetizer with the spread, and popped it into his mouth.

“It's a good thing you're cute,” Sirius said with a dramatic sigh as he leant back against the loveseat, and Ron, who had sat down on Harry's opposite side in an armchair, snorted into his butterbeer.

 

After Harry had polished off two-thirds of the plated quiche, Molly excitedly proclaimed that it was time for gifts. Harry felt himself flush, and the others laughed at his reaction as a parcel wrapped in bright blue and pink paper was plopped into his lap.

“God, this feels so strange...” Harry muttered under his breath as he reached for the spellotaped folds of the paper, and Sirius chuckled as he wrapped an arm around him and kissed his temple.

“Just indulge them, they're really excited,” Sirius said, and Harry nodded as he ripped the paper, and laughed as he pulled out a plush lion.

“Thanks, Bill and Fleur,” Harry said as he glanced up, and they both beamed at him.

“For your leetle Gryffindor to be,” Fleur said, and both Harry and Sirius laughed.

“Oh, I want to go next!” Ginny said, and pressed a narrow box on Sirius, who appeared slightly startled, but pleased, as he enthusiastically opened the box, and Harry grinned as Sirius pulled out a baby leather jacket, which was an exact replica of the one Sirius always wore. “And Harry, it is your job to get plenty of the pictures of your little one with his Papa in matching jackets, yeah?”

“Deal,” Harry said as he continued to laugh, and wrapped an arm around Sirius in a half hug, while the older man took a moment to collect himself before they proceeded.

The gifting continued, with gifts from Molly and Arthur being a number of baby clothes, including the baby's first Weasley jumper—which Molly said would fill in with an initial once they'd chosen a name. There were baby books from Hermione and Ron, a toy broom from Charlie—along with apologies for his absence, a beautiful changing table from George and Angelina, little dragonhide booties from Percy and Audrey, and a mobile from Andromeda, which included little figures of deer, wolves, and dogs, which quickly brought Harry to tears.

“Stupid bloody hormones...” Harry mumbled as Sirius passed him a handkerchief, and the others looked on with warm smiles.

“We have one last gift for you two, but it's not from any of us,” Hermione announced, and both Harry and Sirius stared at her while they both blinked in confusion.

“Who's it from, then?” Harry asked as Hermione carefully levitated a large, awkwardly wrapped package, and moved it to rest at Harry and Sirius's feet.

“Hagrid,” Hermione said with a sad little smile, and held out an envelope. “It came with this.”

Confused and curious, given that he hadn't heard from or seen Hagrid since just after the war, he slit open the envelope, and moved so that Sirius could read it over his shoulder.

 

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm sorry that I missed your baby, but I can't leave Grawp alone out here—he gets upset if I leave him for too long, even if Olympe stays behind._

_This gift is something I made for you when you was a baby, but your parents died before I was able to give it to you. When I left with Olympe and Grawp for the Alps, I asked Mr and Mrs Weasley to pass it on to you when the time was right, and they asked me if giving it to your baby was okay, and of course I said yes._

_I hope you and Sirius like it, and maybe soon I will be able to visit._

_Hagrid_

 

Blinking back tears, Harry folded up the letter, and dropped his gaze to the package, hoping it wasn't a dragon egg or baby manticore, and reached out to rip open the paper, only to gasp in shock as it fell away, and his brain registered what he was seeing.

Ornately carved from polished oak, far above any skill Harry would have expected from his oldest friend, was a carved hippogriff, handles protruding from the sides of its head, and the entirety of the carving was perched upon rounded, see-saw planks of wood—a rocking hippogriff.

Harry stared at it, his eyes wide as he reached out to brush his fingers over the wood. It had been so long since he'd seen his old friend, and yet he'd still made this for him, albeit a very long time ago, but it showed no signs of age. It was still as beautiful as though it was brand new.

“Hagrid...” Harry murmured softly as he ran his hand over the wood, not quite sure what to say.

“We'll send him a thank you card, yeah?” Sirius asked as he reached out and rested his hand over Harry's, stilling it on the saddle. “And after the baby's born, we can take them on a holiday to thank Hagrid properly. What do you think?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied softly, still not quite able to tear his gaze from the hippogriff. “I like the sound of that.”

 

~*~

 

Later that evening, albeit much earlier than Harry would have liked, Harry announced that he was getting tired, and Sirius took to the task of transporting all their gifts home, before returning one last time for Harry, and to say their goodbyes.

“Thanks a lot for tonight, Molly,” Harry said as he got to his feet and offered her a hug. “I really appreciated it.”

“Oh, any time, dear,” she replied as she pecked his cheek. “If you haven't already worked it out, all of us as just as excited to meet the baby as you two.”

Harry laughed as he thanked her again, then circled the room, bidding everyone goodbye before he and Sirius stepped up to the Vanishing Cabinet to head home.

 

“Think we can move all this to the baby's room tomorrow?” Harry asked as they stepped out into their own sitting room, where Harry found that Sirius had left all the gifts. “I'm just knackered from the party, and I'd like to go to bed.”

“Of course, love,” Sirius said as he moved in to kiss him lightly. “After today, you deserve a rest.”

Harry smiled, and moved in to kiss Sirius in return before he waved him off and headed into the hall to get ready for bed, but made a stop at the toilet first, needing to pee for the hundredth time that day.

Given that it was impossible to aim with his pregnant stomach in the way, Harry sat down with a small groan, but as he gazed down, he noted a strange stain on the inside of his underwear—a pale pinkish yellow, and the pink was what made Harry's stomach churn with uneasiness.

Perplexed, Harry finished his business before reaching around, and he found a little more of the liquid collected on his arse.

“Something's wrong,” Harry muttered to himself as he stood up and washed his hands. He could feel his heart beginning to race as his panic mounted while he flushed the toilet and pulled up his trousers. In an effort to maintain some sense of calm—and not freak out his husband in the process—he kept his voice marginally steady as he called, “Sirius? Could you come here please?”

In an instant Sirius was there, his eyes wide with concern. Before Sirius was able to jump to any life-or-death conclusions, Harry said, “something's leaking out of my...erm, my arse. I think it's something to do with the baby, and I'm a bit worried...”

“Can I have a look?” Sirius asked, his eyes wide with the same panic that Harry was feeling, though like him, his voice was relatively even. “I'll behave myself, I promise.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry replied as he turned around, and with his face flaming in embarrassment, he tugged his trousers back down.

It felt a little odd to have Sirius look him over like this, but Harry voiced no protest as Sirius probed his rectum gently for a moment, then when Harry felt him move away to wash his hands, he straightened back up and tugged up his trousers as he went. When Harry finally turned back around, Sirius's expression was unsettingly grave.

“So?” Harry asked lightly, though the forced lack of concern sounded false in his own ears. “What is it?”

“We need to get you to St Mungo's,” Sirius said without preamble, “right now.”

 


	15. Close Calls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be June 24th. Enjoy, and thank you guys so much for all the freakouts on the last chapter :D I hope this one lives up to your expectations.

Chapter Fifteen – Close Calls

 

**17 th May, 2009**

 

“H-Hospital?” Harry echoed, “why? I'm not in any pain and it's not blood...plus, it's too early for me to have this kid—”

“Harry,” Sirius said seriously, “don't argue with me, I mean it. You're leaking a fluid when you're not supposed to be, _weeks_ before the baby's due. You _know_ that something's wrong, so please, can I just take you to hospital with the lowest amount of complaints? We need to have this looked at as soon as possible.”

Harry knew it wasn't good—he could feel it. But after all the excitement of the day, all he wanted to do was _sleep_. _Why_ did he have to have shown Sirius? Couldn't it wait a little longer?

“Can't we go tomorrow, after I've had a little sleep?” Harry asked weakly, and Sirius shook his head.

“No, love, we can't,” Sirius said as he reached up to stroke Harry's cheek. “I know you're tired, but this isn't something we can put off, because...” he faltered, his gaze calculating as though he wasn't certain whether he wanted to speak or not before he added, “because there might be something wrong with the baby. We need to go see the healer _now_ , and if you keep protesting, I will carry you there myself. Understand?”

Sagging in defeat, but his stress simultaneously rising at the prospect that there might be something _seriously_ wrong, Harry nodded.

“Okay,” he said at last, “let's go.”

 

~*~

 

As they prepared to leave, Sirius was eerily calm. It was almost as though he had not fully absorbed the prospect that something might be amiss as he shepherded Harry into the Vanishing Cabinet, then into the hospital itself. Sirius spoke to the welcomewitch at the front desk briefly before they were allowed to head over to the Maternity ward, where Healer Singh was already waiting for them in her street clothes instead of her healer's robes.

“I'm sorr—” Harry began, intending to apologize for bothering her on her day off, but she waved him off quickly before she led him and Sirius into a free examination room.

“No time for pleasantries, Mr Potter-Black,” she said briskly as she patted the table, and Harry carefully got up with Sirius's help. “Tell me what happened.”

“We got back from our baby shower, and I went to the toilet, and I found something in my...er, pants,” Harry said awkwardly, his face flushing crimson as he spoke. “I asked Sirius to look at it, and he insisted we come straight here.”

“It was some sort of liquid coming from his bottom, not blood though. I'm worried that something's wrong with the baby,” Sirius added, and the healer nodded as she withdrew her wand and pointed it at Harry's stomach, muttering something under her breath for a moment, before she nodded to herself.

“It's as I thought—you're leaking amniotic fluid,” she said, and pointed her wand at Harry again, who yelped when Singh unexpectedly cast a levitation charm on him, and transported him to the Birth Image chair he'd sat in dozens of times before. “I need to see what's going on in there, because it is _far_ too early for you to go into labour, and as I have told you a dozen times, it is physically impossible for you to give birth naturally.”

“Amni-what?” Harry asked, confused and slightly alarmed from all the activity around him. Sirius looked scared, the healer was tense, and he could feel himself getting a little lightheaded from all the stress. “What does that mean? Where's it coming from? Why are you acting like I'm bleeding from my arse?”

“Amniotic fluid is the liquid your baby is suspended in while it grows in the womb,” Healer Singh explained while she snapped on some gloves and hastily pulled Harry's jumper up with one hand, while she used the other to grab the salve that she always used. “Too little, and your baby risks head injury, not getting enough nutrients, broken bones...and you could miscarry if it continues. _That_ is why it's so crucial we find out why you are leaking the fluid.” She paused as she spread the salve on Harry's stomach, then asked, “Now, we need to find out _why_ this is happening, Harry. Have you been having any contractions? Pressure or pain around your abdomen or lower back that feels different from usual back pain?”

Overwhelmed, Harry buried his face in his hands as he tried to get a handle on his breathing, but the horrors that the healer were painting for him only made his panic worse. Sirius rested a hand on his shoulder, but Harry found little comfort in it while Healer Singh said again, “Harry, please, I _need_ you to answer my question. Have you had any contractions?”

“No,” Harry said at last as he gazed back up at her, but continued to tremble slightly. “Is my baby going to be okay?”

“Yes,” she replied with a reassuring smile. “We caught it soon enough that at worst, you will have an early delivery, and I will do everything I can to make sure both of you are just fine. Now, hold your husband's hand, and try to relax, all right? You're in a safe place, and I am going to take care of you, but extra stress will only make things worse, so the calmer you are, the better things will turn out. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Harry said with a small sigh as he reached for Sirius, and he offered up his hand freely.

“Good, now just relax while I see what's going on in here...”

The healer trailed off as she pressed the tip of her wand to his stomach, and began to move it around. Harry and Sirius both turned to look at the parchment she often used for these scans, and Harry smiled weakly at the image of his baby, but he hated the undercurrent of fear that accompanied this visit.

They were silent for several minutes while Healer Singh studied the image, until at last a little triumphant smile graced her face, and she tapped her wand against his belly again, making a tiny scroll of parchment appear in midair. She snatched it up and read its contents quickly, and her smile broadened a little.

“Ah, here we are—it seems there was a complication from the potions we gave you,” she said as she looked back up to the couple.

“Complication?” Harry asked uneasily, “what sort of complication?”

“It appears that your placenta grew too thinly, and because of that, your baby tore it slightly from moving, causing the leakage. I can patch it up, but I can't fully thicken your placenta, because it would be like adding a layer of scar tissue, which would cause more possible complications, not lessen the probability of them occurring.” Singh paused for a moment, her attention shifting from Harry to her gloves, peeling them off as she added, “I also want you to stay for observation in hospital for a few days to ensure that the patch holds. After that you can go home, but I want you on bed rest for the rest of your term.”

“Bed-what?” Harry sputtered. “As in not leaving my bed for the _rest_ of my term?! But...but...I'm only at thirty weeks! How can you ask me to stay in bed for another _four_ weeks?”

“Four to six, actually,” the healer said, and Harry groaned while she shifted her gaze to Sirius. “Tie him to the bed if you have to; because of the delicacy of the pregnancy, there is very little margin for error, and Harry _needs_ to keep from tearing again before at _least_ thirty-six weeks when he comes in for his cesarean section, and I cannot use this suturing charm more than once or twice before it gets too risky. Understand?”

“I have some handcuffs at home that he'll like,” Sirius said dryly, and Harry flushed a deep crimson as Healer Singh chuckled and pointed her wand at Harry's stomach again, tapping it once, and Harry felt a distinct tingling in his abdomen that told him the suturing charm had done its work, before she picked up an ordinary flannel, and wiped the salve off his skin.

“Please wait here for a moment while I have one of the trainees prepare a room for you,” Singh said kindly once she'd finished, and banished the rag. “Sirius, I assume you'll wish to stay as well?”

“I'm not leaving his side,” Sirius replied firmly, making Harry flush again at the earnestness of his husband's tone.

“That's fine,” she said with a small nod, “I will be back shortly.”

Healer Singh turned and stepped out of the room, and the moment that she disappeared, Harry bowed his head forward, and burst into tears.

“Oh, love, it's okay,” Sirius said as he sat on the edge of the chair and rubbed his back. “The baby's fine, and you're fine, why are you crying?”

“B-because I feel so _stupid_ for protesting we come here tonight!” Harry said between weak sniffles. “What i-if you'd listened to me, and we didn't come? What would have happened?”

“You don't need to think about that,” Sirius said as he leant in to kiss him. “Just relax, if you get stressed, you might hurt yourself.”

“I c-can't help it, Sirius,” Harry sniffed as he rubbed roughly at his eyes. “I f-feel like such a failure right now—”

“Baby, you're not a failure, these things happen...” Sirius paused, and gently rested the knuckle of his pointer finger under Harry's chin, lifting his gaze before he continued. “Love, are you listening to me? It's _not_ your fault.”

“It still f-feels like my fault,” Harry mumbled, sniffling as he ran a hand over his stomach, which still felt slightly tacky from the slave the healer had used. “S-some parent I'm turning out to be, and they haven't even been _born_ yet!”

“Love, it's a pregnancy _complication_ ,” Sirius said in the same soft and patient tone of voice, without even his usual edge of frustration that usually accompanied their arguments. “It doesn't mean you'll be a bad dad—these things happen, there's nothing you can do about it.”

“Except sit on my arse for a month and a half, apparently,” Harry said sourly, and Sirius offered him a weak, apologetic smile.

“I know this probably won't make you feel better, but once our baby's born, you won't have to sit down if you don't want to—but you probably will, considering you'll be recovering from having our kid...”

“Who knew parenthood involved so much sitting around, eh?” Harry asked, and Sirius chuckled softly, just as a knock sounded upon the examination room's door, and a trainee healer poked her head in, before she moved the rest of the way into the room with an ordinary-looking wheelchair rolling in front of her.

“Mr Potter-Black and Mr Potter-Black?” she asked cheerily, and both men nodded, while Harry awkwardly pulled his shirt back down over his stomach. “Lovely. I have a room ready for you, so if you could just hop down into this chair, we'll get you over to it and get you nice and settled. How does that sound?”

Harry opened his mouth to offer up a sarcastic remark, but Sirius elbowed him lightly, silencing him.

“It sounds...fine, I guess,” Harry replied with a scowl, and crossed his arms.

With Sirius and the trainee healer's help, Harry was manoeuvred into the wheelchair, and he was wheeled from the examination room, down the hall, and to a small private room. There, he was given a hospital gown to change into, which Sirius did for him with a very uncomfortable switching spell, before he was levitated into the bed.

“Now, if you need _anything,_ just ring the bell there,” she motioned to a doorbell-type button on his bedside table, “and someone will come see you. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave, Mr Potter-Black?”

“No,” Harry said sourly. “Unless I can go home?”

“I'm afraid it's in your best interest to stay here until we release you,” the trainee healer said kindly. “It is for your safety as well as your child's. I know that staying in hospital for a few days isn't your idea of fun, but I promise you, you'll be well-taken care of, and in a few days, you'll be able to go home.”

“I'll be here with you the whole time, Harry,” Sirius said as he reached up to stroke his hair. “I know you're frustrated and scared, but everything's going to be fine, I promise.”

“He's right, you know,” the trainee said as she offered Harry another smile. “You're in the best place for both you and your child. So just relax and rest up, all right?”

“Fine, fine,” Harry muttered as he eased back into the bed and crossed his arms. “Do I have to like it?”

The trainee chortled as she left the room, while Sirius leant in to offer him a kiss, which Harry returned happily, despite his sour mood.

“I'm scared, Sirius,” Harry whispered, and his husband smiled at him sadly.

“I know, love,” Sirius murmured as he moved in to kiss him again. “But it's all going to be okay, I promise.”

 

**18 th May, 2009**

 

“Knock, knock, knock!” a sing-song voice called out just before Hermione peeked into Harry's room, closely followed by Ron. Harry smiled weakly when he saw his friends, who came in bearing flowers and a large bag of green grapes. “How are you feeling?”

“I can barely roll over without help, and I need a bedpan to do my business. How do you _think_ I'm feeling?” Harry asked sourly, and Hermione, strangely, exchanged an amused look with Ron.

“Doesn't _this_ bring back memories,” she teased as she pulled up a chair next to Harry's bedside, while Ron took to the task of setting the flowers on his side table, though Harry did little more than scowl at them. “As I recall, I was a _little_ cranky towards the end of my term with Hugo as well.”

“A _little,_ ” Ron said with a snicker, and Hermione playfully swatted his arm. “Just relax, mate, it'll be over before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Hermione added, “just curl up with some sweets and a good book, and try not to think about it.”

“That's more your thing than mine, Hermione,” Harry said dryly while Sirius covered one of his hands with his own, but unfortunately, the silent show of support didn't cheer him up very much.

“Be nice love, they came to visit you, after all,” Sirius said, but that, too, did not aid in wiping the sour look from Harry's face.

“With grapes, for some reason,” Harry added, while Hermione smiled conspiratorially, and reached into her bag.

“We also brought you this,” she said as she pulled a jar out of her bag that made Harry smile, and Sirius groan.

“Peanut butter!” Harry cried, and held out his hands. Hermione laughed and offered him the jar along with a spoon, and Harry proceeded to eat the spread like custard, while he ignored the way Sirius looked as though he wanted to puke at the sight.

“So...I suppose the grapes are for me, then?” Sirius asked with a forced laugh, and Ron grinned at him.

“Would you rather we'd've brought you dog biscuits?” Ron asked as he passed the fruit over, and both Sirius and Harry snorted. “Besides, it's better to feed the craving beast than try and curb them towards something normal. It's all part and parcel of the whole pregnancy gig. Hermione spent three weeks eating nothing but prawns dipped in mayonnaise, so really...this is nothing.”

“You said you didn't mind the prawns!” Hermione whined suddenly, and Harry just barely managed to bite back a snicker at the stricken look that crossed Ron's face.

“It wasn't the prawns I minded so much as the mayonnaise, Hermione,” Ron retorted as he wrinkled his nose. “It was more mayo than prawn.”

“Don't you judge my prawn-to-mayonnaise ratio, Ronald Weasley,” she said crossly, “it tasted fine to me.”

“Of course it did,” Ron said, while Harry and Sirius exchanged amused smirks at the couple's banter.

 

~*~

 

Ron and Hermione stayed with Harry and Sirius for a few hours until Healer Singh popped in for a checkup in the late afternoon. It was at that point that they took their leave, but promised to stop in the next day.

“We can bring Mum along if you like,” Ron added as he stopped at the door, “she was practically having kittens when we told her that you had gone to hospital after the party—”

“Do what you can to keep her from coming just yet,” Sirius interjected, “I know she means well, but Harry would do better without any stress.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed with a weak laugh. “I mean, I love her like a mum, but she can be a bit...you know.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron agreed as he chuckled. “ _Believe me_ , I know. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” Harry replied miserably, and his healer chortled as the door snapped shut behind his friends.

“Goodness, you sound just so _thrilled_ to be here, Harry,” she said teasingly, and Harry grimaced a little, but didn't bother apologizing as he set aside his jar of peanut butter while she approached. “One might even assume that you'd never want to leave.”

“They better not,” Harry said sourly, “I'm counting down the hours until I can get out of here.”

“Well, I have some good news for you then,” she said with a warm smile. “So far, the bedrest has yielded no stress on your baby, so provided this keeps up, I'll be sending you home tomorrow evening, but you'll be on continued bedrest for the remainder of your term. What I mean is from now until your thirty-sixth week when we bring you in for your cesarean section, you are _not_ to leave your bed. This means no extended walking, no lifting of any kind—nothing. From now until your baby is born, you are not to leave your bed except to go to the toilet. Do you understand?”

Harry groaned, and fell back into the bed with a soft _flump_ , while Singh offered him a warm smile.

“Excellent,” she said brightly, “now, is it all right if I examine you?”

“Only if Sirius is allowed to stay,” Harry mumbled sullenly, but smiled faintly when his husband squeezed his hand gently.

“That is perfectly fine,” Singh said as she approached and flicked her wand, roving it up and down Harry's form slowly, before she nodded and put her wand away.

“Everything seems to be fine, Harry,” she said. “But I want as little stress on your body as possible going forward, so once you get home I would like you to stop using glamours on your chest.”

“What? Why?”

“Your body is going to begin its preparations for your child's birth soon, and that will be stressful enough without the addition of cosmetic magics on top of it,” she explained patiently. “I understand that you may feel awkward or uncomfortable about the fact that you have grown breasts, but it is for your baby's welfare that you need to now think, not your own comfort. If you want to talk to someone about it, I can organize a meeting with your mind healer before I discharge you.”

“I'll...think about it,” Harry said awkwardly, while he crossed his arms across his chest self-consciously. The healer nodded and let herself out, while Harry let out a huff as he slumped back against the pillows again.

“Harry?” Sirius asked tentatively, and Harry's gaze flicked over to him while he ran a hand through the younger man's hair gently. “I know that you don't like attention drawn to your chest, but really, it's not _that_ big. I've seen men with bigger natural tits, and if your friends want to come visit, we can always cover you up with a blanket or an overlarge jumper or something, and I _swear_ no one will notice. I know you're uncomfortable about it, love, but we'll work out a non-magic alternative until things are over.”

“I'm so tired of this, Sirius,” Harry said softly as he sniffled, and felt his throat tighten as tears began to sting his eyes. “I'm s-so tired of feeling uncomfortable in my own skin...”

“I know, sweetheart,” Sirius said as he leant in to kiss Harry's temple gently, while he continued to gently stroke his hair. “But it's almost over, and you won't have to do it again if you don't want to, I swear.”

“It still feels like a long time...” Harry mumbled as he eased down onto the pillows and turned to face Sirius, who was smiling at him sadly. “But no matter what, I feel like...it might be worth it for our child, it's just...it's hard to get over this mental block of hating my own body like this...does that make sense?”

“In a sort of roundabout way, yes, it makes sense,” Sirius said with a soft chuckle as he ran a hand over Harry's stomach, and they both smiled as Harry felt the distinct _thump_ of their baby kicking.

 


	16. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update is scheduled for July 8th. Sorry for the slight delay in posting this, I hope you guys enjoy it! :)

Chapter Sixteen – Home Again

 

**19** **th** **May, 2009**

 

“And...we're home,” Sirius said as he wheeled Harry out of the Vanishing Cabinet and into their sitting room. Harry crossed his arms sulkily when he spotted their bed in the middle of the space, while Sirius reached down to squeeze his shoulder gently. “Come on, love, don't be like that...”

“I can be like however I _want_ , Sirius,” Harry snapped. “I am stuck off my feet for the next month and a half, this kid wants to rip through my stomach if I so much as _sneeze_ wrong, and I can't do anything at all. I haven't even done any flying since all this started. Do you even _know_ the last time I played Quidditch? More than a _year_ ago. So don't you fucking _dare_ tell me what to be like or what to feel!”

“I never _told_ you what to feel!” Sirius protested weakly, “I just want you to cheer up—”

“—that's telling me what to feel!” Harry interrupted angrily. “How can you _say_ that to me? I thought you were supposed to support me during all this, not dictate my emotions to me!”

Harry opened his mouth to say more, but at the same moment he let out a pitiful sob, and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh, love,” Sirius said softly, “come on, let's lie down and have a chat, okay?”

Harry didn't respond beyond another loud cry, but he did allow Sirius to loop an arm around him and help him to stand, before he led him over to the waiting bed.

Gently, Sirius eased Harry down onto the welcoming mattress. He sniffled and wiped at his streaming eyes and nose, while Sirius circled the bed and lay down next to him. One arm was draped across his abdomen just above the swell of his protruding stomach, while Sirius gently kissed away his tears.

“Now, tell me,” Sirius murmured softly, “why are you crying, Harry? What has you so upset?

“ _You_ , you arse,” Harry sniffled while Sirius continued to hold him. “You being all...all...you _telling_ me how to feel, and _telling_ me to not to act a certain way! In case you haven't noticed, Sirius Orion, Potter-Black, I am fucking pregnant with your fucking child, so all of this—this _uncomfortableness_ , and misery, and everything else, all of it is _your_ fault.”

“It's not _my_ fault!” Sirius protested, his voice jumping up an octave as he spoke. “I didn't cast the bloody charm on us, we were just following the rules of _Potestas—_

“But _you_ were the one who suggested it was _me_ who do the pregnancy thing,” Harry sniped. “Oh, Harry, you're so young, _you_ do it, never mind you'll be _stuck in bed for a month and a half—ooh_.” Harry broke off abruptly and brought a hand to his stomach, his face contorted as a bolt of pain lanced through him.

“Harry?” Sirius prompted, his voice no longer irritated, but heavy with concern. “What's wrong?”

“Hurts...” he said, his eyes screwed shut, but after a moment the pain faded, and Harry opened his eyes again. “It's...gone.”

“It might've been a Braxton-Hicks Contraction,” Sirius said, and to Harry's look of confusion he added, “a practice contraction. I guess it might've been brought on by your ranting...maybe the high stress of the being at hospital and everything?”

“Maybe,” Harry agreed reluctantly while he ran a hand across his stomach pensively. “Does that mean I'm barred from complaining too?”

“I think you just need to relax,” Sirius said as he moved his hand up to Harry's forehead, then carded it gently through his hair. “I know it's probably really stressful going through all this, and scary, and I know that I can't really understand it all, but I still want to be here for you and help you as much as I can. Will you let me do that?” Sirius paused, and offered him a teasing smirk. “Even if it _is_ my fault that you got knocked up?”

Harry snorted at the wording, then he reached up to coil a hand around the back of Sirius's neck, drawing him into a kiss.

“I love you, you idiot,” Harry said warmly, and Sirius chuckled as he leant in for another peck.

“I love you too, Harry,” Sirius replied, “even though you drive me positively barmy.”

 

**6** **th** **June, 2009**

 

A fortnight later, Harry began to truly believe that he'd never get out of bed again, at the rate he was going.

Even with his friends perched on the end of it and a massive box of Honeydukes' Peanut Butter Bon Bons between them, Harry couldn't completely shake off his restlessness, and instead scowled at his hand of cards while he tried not to think about it—he didn’t want to be subject to _another_ lecture from both Hermione _and_ Sirius.

“Ooh, poker and chocolates?” Sirius sing-songed as he stepped in through the front door, completely sodden from the torrential downpour outside. “You know what they say about poker—”

“—Sirius, don't fucking say it—”

“—liquor in the front, poker in the rear!” he said, flexing his pert arse as he spoke, making Harry groan, and his friends flush red.

“I want a divorce,” Harry announced as he slapped down his cards on the duvet, and moved to get up, and rolled his eyes when Ron, Hermione, and Sirius all lurched towards him at the same time to stop him. “Would you all _relax?_ ” he demanded, “I just need to use the toilet—for the hundredth time today.”

“Oh, that's fine, then,” Hermione said cheerfully, and Harry rolled his eyes as he slowly got up with an audible groan, and waddled awkwardly to the bathroom.

Harry shut the door and quickly went about his business, and like so many times over the last weeks, he checked his pants for questionable stains, and was relieved when he found nothing.

Washing his hands, despite the lack of necessity of it, Harry eyed himself in the mirror. The severely baggy jumper—an old faded grey garment that had once belonged to Dudley—hid his chest nicely, but despite this, it still felt almost as though he was wearing something skin-tight. The compulsion was still there to cast the necessary glamour charms to hide it, but he abstained. He didn't want to hurt the baby.

_My baby..._ Harry thought with a faint smile as he finished drying his hands, and moved to touch his stomach gently, and he felt a flutter of excitement in his chest at the same time. _I get to meet you in just three weeks...I really hope you have Sirius's eyes, because glasses really are a pain in the arse..._

Harry laughed a little at the thought as he stepped out to rejoin his friends, who were chatting amiably with his husband when he reappeared—now dry from his outdoor excursion, and all three offered him a smile when they spotted him.

“Harry,” Sirius said warmly as he waddled over and sat back down on the bed with a small groan. “I was thinking...want to do takeaway for dinner, the four of us?”

“Sounds fine,” Harry replied with a slight shrug. “I want Chinese, with—”

“—peanut butter dumplings,” Sirius filled in as he chuckled, and wrapped an arm around the younger man. “I swear, come delivery day, you're going to just give birth to a jar of peanut butter, the rate you're going.”

“He's probably not wrong,” Ron added with a snort. “How many jars is it now, Harry? Five hundred?”

“Shut up,” Harry said with a laugh as he leant back against his pillows, and offered Sirius a small smile as he teased the flyaway hairs at the nape of the younger man’s neck. “Besides, if _I_ am going to give birth to a jar of peanut butter, how come Hugo doesn't look like a giant prawn?”

“He kind of did on the way out,” Ron shot back with a snort. “All pink and wiggly—”

“Oh, _really,_ Ron, that's _not_ funny!” Hermione cried as she swatted his arm, which only made him laugh harder.

“It was a little funny,” Ron retorted as he slowly sobered up and offered Hermione an innocent grin. “C'mon, Hermione, you know I love our kids, but _blimey_ were they goofy-looking on the way out. Childbirth really isn't for the faint of heart.”

“It really, _really_ isn't,” Harry agreed, smiling as he leant against Sirius's side, and relaxed into his husband's gentle embrace.

 

Later that evening over plates piled high with greasy Chinese takeaway, it was more of the same—this simple peace that effectively distracted Harry from his present predicament, and gave him something else to focus on.

Food, in this case.

“Augh,” Harry said as he gagged on a dumpling dredged in peanut butter sauce. He spat it into his napkin before he rinsed his mouth out with a large mouthful of water, and Hermione smiled at him knowingly.

“Looks like the baby is over their peanut butter phase,” she noted, and Harry frowned at her.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Harry demanded as he wrinkled his nose. “They're probably just off or something...they taste _awful_.”

“Here, try this,” Ron said as he lifted his wand, and Summoned a jar of dill pickles from the kitchen, which made Sirius snort, and Harry roll his eyes.

“Seriously?” he asked, “bit of a stereotype, isn't it?”

Ron didn't answer beyond an innocent grin, and held out the jar for Harry, who accepted it with a wry

smirk, and popped it open. Harry fished one of the pickles, his fingers dripping with brine, and he bit down on the end with a loud _crunch_.

“Hmm, not bad,” Harry mused as he reached out to dip the pickle in the last dredges of peanut sauce, much to the dismay of his onlooking friends and husband, who seemed to be fighting total mental shutdown as Harry brought the pickle to his lips, and bit down again. He brightened, relieved that his peanut sauce was once more palatable, and happily dipped the pickle into the sauce over and over again until he'd finished it.

“It's a good thing you're so pretty,” Sirius remarked as he hooked an arm around Harry's shoulders, and pulled him a little closer. “Because your food cravings are all kinds of disgusting.”

Harry laughed and swatted his arm a little, while Ron and Hermione looked on with similar warm smiles.

 

At the end of the evening, Harry really didn't want his friends to go, but he didn't quite know how to say it. Instead, he sat on his bed, smiling at them weakly as he offered Hermione a hug, and cuffed Ron lightly on the shoulder.

“It was good seeing you guys, really,” Harry said, and both his friends laughed.

“What, you think we'd just let you sit here and die of boredom before you even get to meet your kid?” Ron asked as he grinned at Harry. “With only _Sirius_ for company?”

“He makes much better company when I don't have to be so damn cautious,” Harry retorted as he arched a suggestive brow, and both Sirius and Hermione snorted, while Ron flushed a deep scarlet.

“I think I like you pregnant,” Sirius said with another laugh, “you're _way_ less of a prude right now.”

“I think the cabin fever is just beginning to get to me,” Harry retorted with a small smirk. “I'm going completely _mad_ from doing nothing but lie in bed for days on end.”

“I know the feeling,” Hermione said consolingly as she reached down to pat Harry's shoulder. “I was on bed rest for Hugo towards the end of my term too, and it's _maddening_. Believe me, once your little one is born, you'll feel _much_ better.”

“I'm pretty excited at the idea of being able to see my own feet again,” Harry replied, and Hermione laughed, though there was understanding in the sound instead of amusement. More than his husband or his other friends, Hermione understood this on a completely different level, one which Harry was deeply grateful for. “But seeing my baby...I'm getting really excited to meet them.”

“And they'll be coming into such a loving home,” Hermione added as she calmed down from her bout of laughter. “Any child should be so lucky to have such wonderful fathers.”

“You have any guesses about the sex of the baby?” Ron asked, “I remember you and Sirius wanted it to be a surprise; me and Hermione did that with Hugo, but Hermione said that she always knew that he would be a boy...”

“I dunno, honestly,” Harry replied as he ran his hand across the swell of his stomach. “I don't have a _feeling_ either way, I just hope that they're healthy.”

“Oh, _Harry_ ,” Hermione said, her eyes welling with tears as she rushed forward to embrace him, which made Harry yelp in surprise. “That makes me _so_ happy to hear. When all this started, you were just so reluctant, and understandably so, but now...oh, it's just wonderful to see you so hopeful and everything for the future.”

“I always thought that having a kid would be _awful_ ,” Harry admitted as Hermione stepped back, “and I mean...some parts are, like I could do without the morning sickness and the heartburn and being in bed for so bloody long, but...”

Harry paused, and turned his gaze to Sirius, and he smiled at Harry warmly.

“But some parts are just _wonderful_.”

 

**17** **th** **June, 2009**

 

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter-Black!” Healer Singh said cheerily as Sirius wheeled Harry into the examination room, and he scowled.

“Care to explain what's so _good_ about it?” Harry asked grumpily. “My arse hurts from so much bloody _sitting_.”

“That's to be expected from a month of bed rest, but it is _almost_ over,” she said with a warm smile. “Come along, up into the chair, and we'll see how you baby is doing today.”

“Just one more week...” Harry muttered to himself as Sirius helped him to his feet, and he waddled over to the chair, and sat down with a soft groan. It was just as well that he was on bed rest anyway, he could barely walk to begin with.

“All right, let's see...” the healer said as she gently rolled up Harry's baggy T-shirt, and spread a glob of familiar slave over his stomach. Singh rested the tip of her wand against Harry's stomach, and the image of his child bloomed onto the parchment, while Harry could not help but smile at the sight, despite his sour mood. The baby seemed to be sleeping, but would occasionally shift, and when they did, Harry felt a distinct flutter of movement in his stomach.

“The patch seems to be holding up well,” Singh said as she moved her wand and gave both Harry and Sirius a different view of their child. “And they look to be in perfect health, so we'll be going along with the caesarean section as planned. I've gone ahead and scheduled you for Thursday, twenty-fifth June, at ten o'clock in the morning, so a week and a day from today.”

“That sounds fine to me,” Sirius said as he turned from Singh to Harry. “Love?”

“Yeah, that sounds all right,” Harry replied, flushing a little from Sirius's pet name for him. “Erm...how does a magical C-section differ from the muggle kind, anyway?”

“It's actually quite similar,” Healer Singh said as she tapped the parchment to make photographic copies for Harry and Sirius, then moved to clean the salve off Harry's stomach with a damp flannel. “It is virtually painless, though some prospective parents have told me that they feel a certain level of pressure during the procedure. Your stomach is opened with a controlled severing charm, and a number of charms are implemented to hold back the blood and numb the pain. The placenta is punctured and the baby is removed, cleaned off with a more gentle variation of the _scourgify_ charm, and the baby is passed immediately to you, while the father—or other father, in this case—is shown how to cut the cord. Your excess organs are removed—meaning the womb—and you're transported to the recovery wing of the Maternity Ward.”

“That's...a lot,” Harry admitted with a wince, his hand tensing in Sirius's. “How come you can't just...Apparate the kid out? Surely that would be a less messy way of doing it?”

“There is too much risk in doing something like that,” the healer said with a small, weak smile. “There was a period where caesarean sections were done that way, like a modification of Side-Along Apparition, but the infant mortality rate was just too high from splinching accidents to continue with that method, and so we use this procedure these days. In fact, it was a muggleborn healer who initially proposed this method to start with.”

“Oh, all right,” Harry replied, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he laid his hand on his now clean stomach, and felt a soft thump from within. “How do you know you won't slice into my child by accident with that severing charm, though?”

“Your own innate magical power, paired with the magic that all wizarding children are born with will protect them,” Singh said with a reassuring smile. “While overall a magical pregnancy is much the same as a muggle one in the sense of how the child grows, when it comes to something like a spell or charm directed at your stomach, your body will naturally protect the child with something akin to a low-level shield charm, and as a result the severing charm will only go so far before it is forcibly stopped, you see?”

“Oh, that's all right then,” Harry said as he relaxed a little. “Honestly, I'm just sort of relieved that I won't have to deliver this kid naturally. My friend...female friend, mind, she waddled around like she'd been hit in the...er, _bits_ with a sledgehammer for nearly three weeks afterwards.”

“Everyone's pain threshold is different, and some women have said they were ready to do it again almost immediately,” Singh said as she gently pulled down Harry's T-shirt over his stomach, and handed him the photographs of his scan.

“I can't even imagine that,” Harry said with a weak laugh. “I mean, I'm ready to meet our child, but to go through this all again? I'm not sure I could.”

“You do what is right for you,” Singh replied with a warm smile, and reached out to pat his hand in a motherly sort of way. “I will see you on the twenty-fifth, all right?”

“Is there anything we should bring along?” Sirius asked before Harry could respond, and the healer nodded.

“I change of clothes for Harry, nothing too tight or restrictive,” Singh replied with the same warm, relaxed air about her. “Since he will be breastfeeding, something with buttons or a zip down the front would be best. Also some clothing for the baby. We of course have the little blankets and beanies on hand that all newborns receive, but you may want something for them after the first day or two.”

“I'll have a bag packed,” Sirius said with a nod, and the healer smiled again.

“Then I will see you both on the twenty-fifth. And Harry, make sure you keep up with the bed rest. I know it is frustrating, but it is almost over.”

“Yeah, but not soon enough,” Harry retorted with a weak laugh, while the healer chuckled as Sirius helped him back into his wheelchair, and Harry began to mentally count the days until the twenty-fifth arrived.

He could hardly wait.

 


	17. Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Updates are being moved to Mondays for the rest of the summer. Next update will be July 16th. Enjoy! :)

Chapter Seventeen – Birth

 

**25** **th** **June, 2009**

Harry woke early the day that his baby was to be born, and found himself not terrified, but excited. Almost painfully so, like someone had set off a crate of fireworks in his stomach.

Harry lay there in bed, unwilling to disturb his sleeping husband, and smiled to himself as he watched Sirius rest next to him. The day before, Sirius had transported their bed back to their bedroom, and set up the bassinet next to it, where their baby would sleep when they brought them home. Near to the door of their bedroom lay a duffel bag packed with clothes and toiletries for Harry and the baby. Everything was as ready as it could possibly be for their lives as a family to begin. Now, it was only time that separated them from finally meeting their child.

Harry traced the stitching on their duvet, unable to quash the smile from his lips as he lay there, but neither did he want to. He was finally ready to be a dad.

Quite suddenly, Harry wanted Sirius to wake up just so that he could share the moment with his husband. At the same time however Harry was loath to disturb him, in particular when he was sleeping so peacefully. The last months had to have been hard on him too, and to see the older man so relaxed was a blessing unto itself.

“I'm ready,” Harry whispered as softly as he dared, “I really can't wait to meet our kid.”

“Good,” Sirius whispered back, making Harry jump a little, and Sirius chuckled as his eyes flicked open, and he grinned at him. “Did I scare you?”

“A little,” Harry replied with a weak laugh, “I thought you were sleeping.”

“I can't sleep,” Sirius admitted as he let out a small, dramatic groan. “I feel like a kid on Christmas Morning. I just _can't wait_ for ten o'clock to come, you know?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “I know.”

 

~*~

 

Harry would have liked to spend the morning in bed with some sort of fancy breakfast—ironic, really, given that he'd spent the last month in bed—but given that he wasn't allowed to eat until after the baby was born, Sirius opted to distract Harry from his hunger by helping him into his wheelchair, and steered him into the baby's room to determine if any finishing touches were needed.

“God, this looks amazing,” Harry said as he looked around the soft yellow room, _cornmeal_ , Sirius had called the colour tone, with a white crib resting under the large bay window, the changing table against the adjacent wall, and opposite was the rocking hippogriff and rocking chair, along with a bookcase filled with storybooks and toys of all kinds.

Really, it was the perfect baby's room.

Harry ran a hand across his stomach, and tilted his head back to look up at Sirius as he asked, “what time is it?”

“Not yet nine-thirty,” Sirius replied with a warm chuckle, and Harry groaned.

“So close, and yet so far...” he said dramatically, making Sirius laugh again as he bowed forward to offer Harry a tender kiss.

“Just relax, love, it'll be ten before you know it.”

“Stop pretending to be the mature one,” Harry shot back, “I _know_ that you're just as excited as I am.”

“I can be mature sometimes!” Sirius cried with mock offence, “I was _extremely_ mature all through this pregnancy. And _you_ were a royal pain in the arse.”

“A pain in the arse?” Harry demanded with a similar tone of voice, “ _me_? What utter _nonsense!_ ”

Sirius snorted as he stepped away from the chair and over to the dresser, and Harry was on the cusp of asking what he was doing when he pulled a narrow, rectangular box wrapped in brightly coloured paper from the bottom drawer.

“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously as Sirius moved back over to him and rested the box in his lap. It was fairly large, similar to a clothes box from a high-end shop, and weighed almost nothing.

“Little something from me to you, for our baby,” Sirius said as he bowed forward to offer Harry another gentle kiss. “I know this pregnancy has been rough on you, and there’s no real way that I can say _thank you_ , not completely, but...” he trailed off, and shook his head. “Oh, never mind. Just open it.”

Harry laughed, and turned his attention to the package as Sirius took a moment to compose himself. Amazing, really, how he had never noticed just how _emotional_ the man was during his formative years. That wasn’t saying much though—Hermione and Ginny had been happy to point out time and again that he was about as observant as a dead crab.

Harry ripped away the paper at Sirius’s words, and inside he found a nondescript, white cardboard box. Harry’s brow creased with curiosity as he reached down to peel away the spellotape from the sides, which had been keeping it shut. Harry opened the box slowly, and as his gaze fell upon the contents, he immediately felt his heart swell with emotion.

“ _Sirius..._ ” Harry breathed as he pulled the baby blanket out of the box to see the full design, “it’s... _gorgeous._ ”

The blanket was knitted by someone with a careful hand, made of some sort of wonderfully soft material—perhaps cashmere or angora, though Harry wasn’t certain. It was a soft cream colour, with pale blue and pink stitching around the edges, and it was bedecked in images of prancing deer, which seemed to dance and frolic every time Harry moved the blanket to inspect it more thoroughly. Harry blinked hard, but that did little to staunch the joyous tears, and he set down the blanket to dab at his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, while Sirius chuckled warmly and bent down again, this time to kiss the top of Harry’s head.

“It’s traditional for the father in wizarding culture to buy their child their first blanket,” Sirius said, “and even though we’re both the fathers, I figured you wouldn’t mind so much, being the mum, so to speak, in this context.”

“No,” Harry agreed with a small laugh, “I...it’s _wonderful_ , Sirius, I just...this just makes me feel so good inside, and it helps me to know that you’ll be there, no matter what. It’s a good feeling.”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied with a warm chuckle, “it is.”

 

~*~

 

They continued their light, easy conversation all through the morning, and Harry could not help but marvel at how calm and relaxed he felt, and even the prospect of major surgery wasn't enough to dim his excitement.

Harry kept Sirius company while he ate a quick breakfast, then wheeled Harry back to the bedroom to help him dress—which mostly involved Harry batting him away and insisting he could do it himself, before Sirius pulled out the scroll of parchment that they'd been using as a checklist.

“All right, let's see here...” Sirius said as he picked up a self-inking quill off the writing desk, and unrolled the parchment. “Bag, packed, and blanket added to it; you, fasting; nursery set up, bassinet in place, Ron, Hermione, and Andromeda all know the schedule...is that it?”

“I think so,” Harry said, his face twisting a little as he thought it over. “I have this feeling like we're forgetting something, though...”

“I know what you mean,” Sirius replied as he set down the scroll. “Something...but the list is complete, so maybe it's nothing big, you know?”

“Yeah, maybe...” Harry agreed, though his feeling that they were forgetting something refused to fade. He shook his head a little. “Never mind. Let’s just get going.”

Sirius smiled broadly, and set down the scroll before he shouldered Harry’s duffel bag, and wheeled him over to the Vanishing Cabinet almost at a jog.

 

~*~

 

As they made their way from home and to the hospital, Harry was almost compelled to start bouncing in his chair as Sirius rolled him along.

It was happening _._

_Today._

Harry didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or cry, but this time, from joy.

Once the couple made it to the Maternity Ward, Harry felt a mixed sense of annoyance and amusement as he spotted his family—for that was what they were, his _family_ —waiting for him.

“Did you seriously think we’d actually _not_ show up before everything?” Hermione asked before Harry had said a word, and Andromeda chortled as she stepped up to stand at the young woman’s side, with Teddy at her side. Ron moved up to stand next to Hermione with Hugo in his arms, and little Rose at the end of the line.

“We’ve been in this together since the beginning,” Andromeda added, “and we are most _certainly_ not letting you go through this ordeal alone—either of you.”

“I wish I knew what to say,” Harry said with a weak laugh, “besides something obvious like, “ _I should have seen this coming,_ ” or, “ _why am I not surprised?_ ”

“Why am I not coming?” Ron offered, and Harry snorted.

“Because he’s at the end of his term, and it’d be bad for the baby,” Sirius quipped, making the other adults laugh, and the children look on in confusion.

“Right,” Harry said once he’d calmed down. “Come on, husband, let’s get this kid _out_ of me!”

“As you wish, husband,” Sirius replied, while Harry laughed again at the mixture of bemused expressions and eye-rolling that the terms of endearment had caused. Harry didn’t bother trying to say anything however, as Sirius had hurried off towards the desk to sign Harry in, while Harry turned back as much as he could to wave at his family as they went.

“All right, Mr Potter-Black,” the welcomewitch said kindly as they finished signing in. “We already have Delivery Room Three ready for you, so if you would just follow the hall to exam room seven, there you will be able to change, and Healer Singh will conduct one last examination before you are sent off for the procedure.”

“Great,” Harry said with a smile, “thank you.”

The welcomewitch waved him off, and Sirius rolled him down the narrow passageway, pausing long enough to wave back at their assembled family in the waiting room, all of whom cheered as though Harry was about to take to the field for a Quidditch match, not have a baby.

Healer Singh was already in the examination room when Harry arrived, and she offered him a warm smile as Sirius slowed to a stop in front of her.

“Good Morning, Harry,” she said warmly while Sirius shut the room’s door behind them. “And how are you feeling today?”

“I am ready to get this kid _out_ of me,” Harry replied with a grin, which made both Sirius and the healer chuckle.

“Well, I just want to have one last quick examination, then we can get started. Does that sound all right with you?”

Harry nodded as he got to his feet with minimal help from Sirius, and waddled hurriedly to the examination table, making the healer chortle again.

“All right, let’s see how you two are doing today,” Singh said as Harry settled down with Sirius at his side, and she waved her wand at Harry, and he felt a tingling rush flutter through his stomach. For a moment, Harry thought that it was the healer’s charm causing the sensation, but as it continued, understanding dawned on Harry—

It was his _baby_.

“It looks like _someone_ knows it’s time to come out,” Singh remarked not three seconds later with a warm smile, and Harry grinned.

“Our baby’s moving?” Sirius blurted out, and Singh nodded her head.

“Yes, come look,” she said while she moved to lift the hem of Harry’s jumper, but he yelped and grabbed the bottom of it, stopping her short. She blinked and stared at Harry, and he flushed under the confused stares of both his healer and husband.

“My stomach looks _awful_ ,” Harry whined. “I don’t want him to see.”

“Love, a few stretch marks are nothing,” Sirius said with a warm chuckle as he leant in to offer Harry a kiss. “Besides, it runs in the family. Your mother looked like she was ready to pop at any second, with the amount of marks she had...”

“That’s not as comforting as you think it is, Sirius,” Harry said sourly.

“Come on,” Sirius cooed, as he stroked Harry’s hair lovingly. “One little peek, I promise I won’t be an arse about it.”

“Isn’t that asking a bit much of you?” Harry asked dryly, which caused Singh to start coughing very falsely, as though she was trying to cover up a laugh.

“You’re really mean when you’re pregnant,” Sirius complained. “Please, Harry? This is _literally_ my last chance.”

“Oh, fine, fine,” Harry grumbled as he grabbed the hem of his jumper again, “just stop doing that face at me.”

“What face?”

“That poor, three-legged-puppy face,” Harry replied with a faint grin. “No ruggedly handsome man in your age bracket is allowed to look that adorable.”

“Gentlemen?” Singh said suddenly, and both Harry and Sirius turned to her. She was smiling at them with clear amusement glinting in her eyes as she said, “as fun as it is watching you two flirt with each other, please move this along. I have another patient after you that I will need to see to.”

“Right, sorry,” Harry replied, flushing a little as he quickly pulled up his jumper for Sirius to feel, and winced as the older man took in the sight of his rotund stomach, which he had tried in vain to hide from his husband as the myriad of stretch marks had become more and more pronounced over the last fortnight. Now, they were a crisscross of angry red marks that almost seemed to be trying to connect at his navel, and Harry felt slightly sick as he gazed at himself. It looked truly awful, but in contrast, Sirius gazed at him like he was some sort of beautiful Greek god, but when he moved to touch Harry’s stomach, he let out a yelp and jerked back at the same moment that Harry felt a kick.

“What—?” Harry began, but cried out when he saw what had startled his husband. “ _Bloody hell!_ ”

A little, baby-sized foot was pressing out against his stomach, just enough for Harry to make out what it was, and Harry stared, wide-eyed, as the foot disappeared, and he felt a flutter of movement as something else poked out of his stomach—an elbow, maybe—before it began to settle again.

Feeling as though he might faint from the ordeal, he gazed over to his healer, who, once again, was doing her very best to keep from laughing.

“Um, Healer Singh?” Harry asked weakly, but Sirius jumped in before the healer could answer.

“Harry, I think you’ve got a squid in there.”

“Or some kind of mental alien...thing,” Harry added with a wince as he pulled his jumper back down, too alarmed by what had happened to even feel offended by Sirius’s remark.

“It’s not an alien, or a monster,” Singh replied as she resumed her examination, chuckling a little as she spoke. “It is merely your child saying hello to their daddies. At a certain stage, it is easier to see when your child moves, especially in your case, Harry, considering you were so slender to begin with.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, flushing a little in embarrassment as he watched the healer trail her wand over him slowly, the tip of it glowing with a bluish-white light as she went. “I feel like I should have known that.”

“Many don’t, so it is not so uncommon to be alarmed by it,” she said as she straightened back up, and offered both Harry and Sirius a smile. “And I can confirm that your baby is in perfect health—their lungs are fully formed, which is the main concern at this stage, and so barring complications with the procedure, your child will be born healthy.”

“So does that mean we can go forward with the C-section?” Sirius asked, and Singh nodded.

“I will have the room prepped for you, Harry,” Singh said as she waved her wand again, conjuring a hospital gown for Harry. “Put that on, and I will come get you when we’re ready, all right?”

“Can Sirius come with me?” Harry asked quickly, and next to him, Sirius beamed.

“Yes, of course,” she replied with a warm smile as she headed for the door. “We will need to cast a sterilization charm on him before he goes in, but it will be no problem for him to be with you during the procedure.”

The healer left the room after she offered the couple one last smile, and Sirius picked up the pale blue hospital gown, and offered it to Harry with a grin.

“This is going to sound so odd, but...”

“You want me to help you?” Sirius filled in, and Harry flushed as he nodded.

“Your kid is making it hard to get in and out of my own trousers,” Harry said, and Sirius chuckled as he waved his wand, and all Harry’s clothes seemed to jump a foot to the left, leaving him completely starkers in the examination room.

“Sirius!” Harry yelped as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Bloody hell, _warn_ me next time you plan to do that!”

“But you just told me to help you undress!” Sirius protested, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“And I didn’t say charm my clothes off!” Harry groused as he snatched the gown from his husband and tugged it on. “I thought you were going to use your hands.”

“Well, the next time you _beg_ me for a shag, and _insist_ I banish your clothes, I will do it _all_ by hand,” Sirius teased as he circled Harry and tied the gown closed, but not before offering his arse a slight pinch, making him yelp.

“You’re a git,” Harry said fondly as Sirius wrapped his arms around him and perched his head on Harry’s shoulder. He leant back against the older man as he placed one of his hands on Harry’s stomach, and he relaxed as he moved to rest one of his own hands over Sirius’s as he said, “can you believe that in less than an hour us two will be _three_?”

“It’s still kind of hard to believe,” Sirius agreed as he reached down farther to run his hand over Harry’s baby bump gently. “You know, we never really talked about what we want the baby to call each of us...”

“They won’t be calling us anything for the first little while,” Harry pointed out, “but if you say, _Mum_ , I swear, I will kill you.”

“No, no,” Sirius said as he laughed, “I meant...Papa, or Dad, or Daddy...What do you like?”

“I can be Dad,” Harry said thoughtfully as he reached down and rested a hand over Sirius’s again, stilling it in the centre of his stomach. “What about you?”

“I think I like Papa...” Sirius mused. “My own father always insisted that Reg and I call him Father, so that’s about as far as I can get from my own childhood...”

“We’ll do better with this child,” Harry said as he shifted his grip, and threaded his fingers with Sirius’s. “I promise. You’re a good man, the _best_ man, in fact, and I know that you’ll be an _amazing_ Papa.”

A soft tapping on the door interrupted their soft conversation, and Healer Singh poked her head in the door.

“We’re ready for you now,” she said, “just follow me.”

Sirius and Harry exchanged wide, excited smiles before the older man guided Harry back to his wheelchair, and Sirius followed the healer out of the room almost at a run.

Harry laughed as they zipped down the hallway and to a huge room with a high ceiling, lit with floating balls of light so bright that they reminded Harry of fluorescents, and in the centre of the space was something not unlike an ordinary operating table surrounded by three other healers, covered head-to-toe with heavy robes and dragonhide gloves, with headscarves covering their hair, and masks over their nose and mouth. It was remarkably similar to a muggle operating room, and even some of the tools on the side-tables reminded Harry of things he had seen muggle doctors use—spreaders, clamps, scalpels—but the wands in the hands of all the present healers helped to remind Harry of where he was, and what was about to occur.

“Ready, Harry?” Singh asked, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he replied at once, and the healer chuckled as she turned her wand on Sirius, muttering something under her breath which he assumed was the sterilization charm, before she turned back to Harry, and motioned for him and Sirius to follow her farther into the room.

Under the healer’s direction, Sirius helped Harry up and onto the table, laying him flat upon the hard surface, but cushioned ever so slightly by some sort of charm.

Harry shivered as something not unlike a curtain was erected at the base of his neck, and Sirius circled around so that Harry could see him, and he took the younger man’s hand, offering it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“It’s probably better that you don’t see,” Sirius said as he stroked Harry’s hair with his free hand, while the bottom half of his hospital gown was lifted up, and he felt the tingling of a numbing charm enclose the bottom half of his body. “Just relax; this won’t take long.”

Harry’s hand tensed in Sirius’s as he stared at the pale blue barricade, caught between wanting to see what was happening, and not wanting to. It was an odd sensation, one which Harry had only ever associated with a dentist’s office previously. He could feel _everything_ —except the pain.

Harry felt a slight pressure to his stomach, which grew with every passing moment as his stomach was pried open. He could feel the cold air touching his insides, but still, it didn’t hurt. He hissed as nervousness, apprehension, and excitement began to overwhelm him when he felt two pairs of hands wiggling about his insides, moving something away from his innards, and though he wanted to squirm in discomfort, he forced himself to keep still.

“It’s okay, love,” Sirius said as he leant in to kiss Harry’s forehead. “Just relax, we’re halfway there...”

“It feels so...weird,” Harry said softly, “like someone’s pushing really hard on my stomach, and ferreting about in my insides. No pain though. What does it look like?”

“Like someone’s gutted you,” Sirius deadpanned, and Harry snorted.

“Don’t make him laugh!” called one of the healers, “this is delicate work, and we don’t want to hurt the baby.”

“Sorry,” Sirius replied, “won’t happen again.”

“Just hold off for a few more minutes...” Singh said, “we’re nearly... _there!_ ”

Harry felt a sudden wetness flood his insides, and almost immediately some sort of sponge or rag was pressed into him to soak it up. At the same time, an infantile cry rent the air, and Harry felt his heart clench as the sound filled the room. Before Harry could ask, Sirius turned his teary gaze to his husband as he said, “it’s a boy, Harry.”

“We have a son,” Harry croaked as he blinked back tears. “Sirius, we have a _son_. Oh, thank God. Can I see him? Please?”

“Just a moment, Harry,” Healer Singh said, “we just want to clean him up. Sirius, would you like to cut the cord?”

Sirius did not need to be asked twice, and momentarily left Harry’s side. This time, he felt nothing as Sirius and the healers puttered around, his son screaming bloody murder all the while until at last the cries began to soften, but a moment before Sirius reappeared at Harry’s side with a tiny pink baby in his arms, bundled in blue blankets, with a matching hat atop his tiny head. The baby’s eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his little red fists was poking out of the blankets, which Sirius was trying to tuck back in as gently as possible.

“You need to hold still for another minute while they take out the womb and things, and patch you up,” Sirius said softly, his own voice shaky with emotion as he carefully rested the baby next to Harry’s head, while keeping his own hands on their son’s head and neck. Harry reached out to touch the boy’s cheek, and fresh tears flooded his eyes. As the boy’s tiny hand reach out, and wrapped around Harry’s finger. This time, though Harry could distinctly feel organs being removed, and his skin being pulled back together and sewn shut, he found that he didn’t care—they could be stealing one of his kidneys, and still it wouldn’t matter. All that mattered to Harry now was the tiny bundle at his side.

“Sirius, he’s so...perfect. Our perfect little son.”

“It’s been a long journey, but it’s worth it, yeah?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded. He’d never fallen in love so instantly before, and he knew that nothing could ever top the love he felt for the child that Sirius now held. It was a perfect love, and for the first time, the pregnancy truly felt worth it.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “It was definitely worth it.”

 

~*~

 

After they finished stitching Harry back up, he was carefully moved back to his wheelchair, and at last, he was allowed to hold his newborn son. Though in reality it could not have been more than fifteen minutes, to Harry it had felt like _hours._

“Hi there, little one,” Harry murmured, rocking the baby gently as he was wheeled out of the room by Sirius, Healer Singh leading the way to one of the recovery rooms at the far end of the ward. “God, you’re so tiny. I never felt like you were this tiny when you were in me. I always felt _huge_. But look how small you are!”

The baby gurgled a little as Harry rocked him, his eyes occasionally opening into narrow slits to look at Harry, but it was too slight of an opening for him to see what colour the baby’s eyes were. At the same time, Sirius chuckled at Harry’s one-sided conversation with their son, slowing to a stop as they entered the recovery room, and Harry reluctantly passed the baby to Sirius while Singh helped Harry into bed. The moment he was settled, Harry held out his arms to Sirius, and with another laugh, he passed the newborn back over.

“Now, Harry,” Singh said, drawing Harry’s attention back to the healer, “your baby was born completely healthy, and all of your excess organs were removed and you were sealed up, but you may experience some pain or discomfort for the next week or so as your body realigns itself to how it used to be. However, if you experience any sort of rectal bleeding, you need to come straight back here, do you understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Harry said as he continued to rock the babe in his arms. “Er...how long am I going to be in hospital?”

“Just a day or so to rest, and for observation, to make sure everything is fine,” Singh replied with a reassuring smile. “I’ll leave you three alone now, but a Trainee Healer will be by within an hour to take your baby’s size, weight, name, and so on.”

The healer said no more as she nodded to Sirius and Harry before she departed, while Sirius moved to sit on the edge of the bed to look down at their sleeping baby son. He looped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and Harry leant against him with a warm smile, not quite able to take his eyes off the perfect little boy that he held in his arms.

“I just realized what we forgot this morning,” Harry mused softly as he lay there, still radiating a perfect joy, despite his fatigue. “We never discussed names for him.”

They both gazed down at the infant as they realized this, the little baby still fast asleep in Harry’s arms, with the tiniest tuft of dark hair poking out of his little hat, and Harry couldn’t help but marvel how much he looked like Sirius, almost like a tiny twin of his husband.

Harry could recall Ron and Hermione fretting over names for Hugo and Rose for months on end, and they had both produced lists a mile long of prospective names. Curiously, Harry did not feel conflicted about what to call the little boy in his arms. He could feel the name, as though it had been chosen for him all along, and it had only been laying in wait for Harry and Sirius to invoke it.

The couple turned to each other at the same time and said, “James?” in perfect sync.

Baby James began to coo with contentment, and they both began to laugh.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know that some of you are probably a bit annoyed by the chosen name for the baby, but seriously...what else would Sirius and Harry name their kid? :P


	18. Afterbirth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be August 6th. Enjoy!

Chapter Eighteen – Afterbirth

 

 **25** **th** **June, 2009**

Harry had not been in the hospital bed with Sirius at his side, and the newborn James in his arms for a full hour, when the infant began to fuss. Harry felt his stomach drop as he gazed down at his child as his mind seemed to fog with panic.

“Oh, God,” Harry breathed, “what did I do? Why is he making that noise?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, love,” Sirius said gently while he moved in to kiss Harry’s temple. “He might be hungry. Try giving him a feed.”

“Like...” Harry glanced down at himself, and he felt his face grow warm. “You mean... _breast_ feed?”

“That _is_ why you grew them,” Sirius pointed out, and Harry frowned.

“I’ll try if you promise not to look while I’m doing it,” Harry said sternly while James’s cries began to grow louder, and Sirius chuckled as he nodded and pointedly turned away from Harry and his newborn son.

“Whiny little blighter...” Harry grumbled affectionately as he gazed down at the fussy baby, and moved to unlace the neck of his hospital gown, exposing his chest to the world.

Harry lifted James until he was resting against his left nipple, but he continued to fuss and squirm a little, but less like he was distressed, and almost like he was uncertain what to do.

“Try stroking his cheek,” Sirius said without turning around. “It might help him to understand what to do.”

This seemed like a perfectly odd suggestion, but Harry did it anyway, quite keen for James’s cries to quiet. and he did as Sirius instructed. He ran his index finger along the baby’s chubby cheek once, then twice, and on the third time he let out a tiny sigh, and latched on to Harry’s chest.

“There we go,” Harry murmured softly, rocking him a little while he suckled, and the tiny slits of James’s eyes slid shut, and Harry smiled down at the child while he adjusted his clothing, hiding the rest of his chest from view while he said, “okay, you can look now.”

Sirius turned eagerly, and beamed when he saw Harry and James.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius breathed as he inched closer to watch. “Our baby, having his first meal...I wonder what it tastes like?”

“Don’t _even_ go there,” Harry warned, and Sirius snorted.

“I bet it tastes like peanut butter,” Sirius said, and Harry snorted as he fought the urge to elbow him in the side, uncertain if he’d be able to keep his son steady and reprimand his husband at the same time.

“Quiet, you,” Harry retorted at last, and Sirius chuckled a little. “How will I know when he’s full? Will he just...stop eating?”

“Yeah,” Sirius replied, “he’ll know when he’s had enough.”

Almost at the same moment, little James let out a tiny sigh, and stopped suckling. Harry smiled, while Sirius held out his arms and asked, “may I?”

Harry nodded and handed the baby over readily, and Sirius rubbed James’s back while Harry fixed the top half of the hospital gown as Sirius explained, “he needs to be burped, and I used to do this for you when you were little because your dad was always terrified of rubbing too hard and hurting you.”

“It’s so strange to imagine that, considering all that’s changed between us,” Harry mused as he watched James let out a tiny burp, then relax in Sirius’s arms. Harry smiled as he watched Sirius adjust his hold on the child, his expression tender, and every touch careful and deliberate.

“If nothing else, it certainly gives us a baby-rearing springboard; we’re not completely in the dark,” Sirius said as he cradled his son, rocking him gently in his blanket while he relaxed next to Harry, and he smiled as he gazed down at the infant.

“That’s true,” Harry mused as he looked down at his son, still not quite able to wrap his head around it—he had a _son_. “I guess that means I don’t need to worry about you dropping him when I’m not supervising.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

“Yeah, I thought so.”

Harry laid his head on Sirius’s shoulder as they watched their son sleep, his hand falling to his stomach as they sat there, and he couldn’t help but quietly marvel at how _odd_ it felt to have a more or less flat stomach again after being so round for so many months.

“You all right, love?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded as he his bottom lip began to quiver.

“Just feel a bit...overwhelmed, I guess. It’s hard to believe that he’s here, and that the curse won’t hurt us anymore...but it might hurt him in the future.”

“We won’t hold back anything from him,” Sirius promised, “we’ll make sure he knows everything, and he’s not the sole Black descendant, there’s Teddy too, so it might not affect him, since the Potter and Black lines are now tied, the curse might not feel that a child through him is needed...if that makes sense.”

“How do you know for sure?” Harry asked as he gazed down at their son, and Sirius huffed a weak laugh.

“I don’t,” he replied, “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

Harry shorted softly, just as a knock sounded on their door, and both he and Sirius looked up to see a smiling trainee healer letting himself in.

“Hi there, Mr Potter-Black and Mr Potter-Black,” he greeted, “I’m just here to take your son’s measurements and name for his birth certificate, and there are a number of people outside who seem quite keen to meet him.”

“That would be our mad family,” Sirius replied with a chuckle as he handed the baby over, and Harry watched as the healer cradled him gently, and tapped his son’s forehead, creating some sort of document out of thin air.

“All right, length and weight are all fine...have you chosen a name?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, “James Sirius Potter-Black,” Harry said, and Sirius started a little at the middle name, causing Harry to frown. “That’s all right, isn’t it?” he asked, while Sirius continued to eye him oddly.

“You want our son to have my name as his middle name?” he asked curiously, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, do you not want that?” Harry asked, but Sirius still appeared a little startled. Harry smiled, then asked softly, “why would I not want the most important man in my life to give his name to our beautiful son?”

“You are such a big sap right now,” Sirius teased, and Harry felt himself flush as he laughed weakly. “All right, yes, we can give him my name as well.”

The healer tapped the parchment again before he handed the baby to Harry and the Birth Certificate to Sirius. Harry bowed over his husband’s shoulder to look at it.

 

_Birth Certificate_

 

_Surname_

_Potter-Black_

_Given Name(s)_

_James Sirius_

 

_Sex_

_Male_

 

_Length_

_47CM_

_Weight_

_0.33 ST_

 

_Place of Birth_

_London, England, United Kingdom_

 

_Father_

_Sirius Orion Potter-Black_

_Birth Father_

_Harry James Potter-Black_

 

_Date of Birth_

_25_ _th_ _June, 2009_

 

“Would you look at that, you little sprog,” Harry said affectionately as he rocked the infant in his arms. “You’re official.”

“A copy will be sent automatically to the Ministry, but you will need to keep that for your personal records,” the trainee healer said, drawing the couple’s attention back to him. “And your family...? Are you ready to see them?”

“Yeah, send them in,” Harry said with a tired smile, though despite his fatigue, he was quite keen to show off the newest member of their family.

The healer nodded and slipped out of the room, and immediately Sirius asked, “Harry, are you sure? You’ve had a busy morning, and no one would fault you if you wanted to rest before seeing them.”

“No, I’m okay, Sirius, really,” Harry said as he hugged his son close. “I want the rest of them to meet our son.”

Almost at the same moment, the door to their room opened again, and this time Hermione peered inside.

“We interrupting?” she asked sweetly, and Harry laughed as he shook his head, while Sirius waved them in.

Hermione beamed, and happily stepped into the room with Rose’s hand in her own, closely followed by Ron carrying Hugo, who was happily sucking on his own fist, and at last Andromeda, with Teddy clasping her hand and looking a little like he’d been sucking on a lemon.

The last, Harry thought, was curious. Teddy had been adamantly avoiding holding hands with anyone for the last year, perhaps in a display of how _grown up_ he was now as a young man of eleven. To hold his gran’s hand gave Harry the impression that perhaps his godson was feeling more self-conscious about the birth of his cousin than he was letting on, but unfortunately, Harry found that he had no idea what to do about it.

Harry watched Teddy for a moment, the boy’s violet brow pinched as though he was thinking hard about something, but Harry was distracted from his Teddy-watching as Hermione sat down opposite Sirius, and began to coo over the tiny bundle in Harry’s arms.

“Oh, Harry, look at him,” she said softly, “he’s just the sweetest thing. What did you name him?”

“James,” Harry replied as he gazed down at the baby with an affectionate smile. “James Sirius Potter-Black.”

“Of course you did,” Ron said, somewhere between a teasing and amused laugh accompanying his words, and Hermione elbowed him softly.

“He looks _just_ like Sirius,” Hermione offered, her gaze still starry as she looked from her husband and back to the child.

“He does, doesn’t he?” Harry replied with a small smile. “I thought so too. Papa’s little twin.”

“Papa?” Ron asked, his lip curled into a look of confusion as he sat at his wife’s side to look down at the baby.

“What Sirius wants to be called,” Harry replied, “we’re getting into the habit.”

“Harry is Dad,” Sirius offered, shifting a little upon the bed until he was pressed comfortably against Harry’s side, while his gaze quickly dropped to Baby James. “I’m Papa, which sort of works.”

“It does,” Andromeda agreed as she sat on Sirius’s side of the bed, and bowed over her cousin to look at the baby, and she smiled. “and I have to agree, he does look remarkably like you, Sirius, but if I’m not mistaken...” she reached out to touch the baby, but stopped and glanced to Harry, silently asking for permission. He nodded, and she smiled as she very gently pulled the little hat off James’s head, and immediately smiled proudly as the baby’s little tuft of dark hair stood up in all directions, and the group laughed, while Harry let out a small groan.

“Poor kid,” Harry said affectionately as he smoothed out the little bit of hair as best he could before he gently put the hat back on. “Of all the bollocks traits he could have inherited from me...he got the worst one.”

“Nonsense,” Sirius interrupted as he swept in for a kiss, and his fingers tangled into Harry’s hair at the same time, stroking the unruly locks reverently. “I _love_ your hair.”

“Of course you do,” Harry said with a soft snort, then held out the infant to Hermione. “You wanna start the first round of Pass the Baby?”

“Oh, yes please!” Hermione said happily, and accepted the child into her arms, who was still fast asleep, despite the noise around him. Harry smiled, watching as Hermione rocked the newborn gently, cooing softly as she gazed down at him.

“Oh, look at you,” she said softly, while Rose bowed over her mother’s arm and looked down at the child. “You’re so precious...”

“He looks funny, Mama,” Rose piped, “like a wrinkly old man.”

“Shh, love, the baby is sleeping,” Hermione said with a giggle, while the others laughed at Rose’s remark.

“Did I look like a wrinkly old man when I was a baby?” she asked in a whisper that wasn’t much softer than her full voice, and Hermione giggled again.

“Yes, love,” she replied, “all babies look like this.”

“How come?”

“Well,” Hermione began, still rocking little James as she spoke, “babies take a long time to grow. It was such a little space inside of your uncle that the bigger James grew, the more squished he got, until one day there just wasn’t more room, and he had to be born before he could properly grow anymore.”

“Don’t worry, Rosie,” Ron added, “you weren’t _half_ as goofy-looking as this little blighter.”

“ _Oi!_ ” cried Harry and Sirius at the same time, making everyone laugh, but the sudden outburst of noise woke James, and Hermione quickly handed the baby back to Harry as he began to fuss.

Harry rocked James in his arms, watching the crook of his arm where the baby’s head rested almost obsessively to ensure that the boy was properly supported until he calmed down again. He glanced up at his family, and offered them all a reassuring smile as he held out the child again.

“All right,” Harry said softly, so as to not upset James again, “Ron, you want a turn?”

Ron seemed to blanch a little at the offer, and Harry offered his best mate a wide grin.

“Don’t worry,” Harry offered, “if James can survive Sirius holding him, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

Sirius flicked Harry on the ear in response, and the group laughed warmly. Ron passed Hugo over to Hermione, and held out his arms, accepting the infant, while Rose bowed over the crook of her father’s arm to gaze down at James again.

“Dad?”

“Yes, Rosie?” Ron asked, turning away from the infant for a moment to gaze at his own daughter, who was watching him with wide, curious eyes.

“How come you and Uncle Harry keep looking at your arms when you is holding the baby? Do you need to hold the baby special? It doesn’t look very special.”

“’Cause babies have really weak necks and squishy heads,” Ron replied, making both Sirius and Harry chuckle at his wording. “You have to support them carefully so that they don’t hurt themselves.”

“How squishy?” Rose asked as she shifted her gaze to James and cocked her head to the side curiously.

“Very squishy,” Ron replied with a warm chuckle. Rose lifted her hand, her index finger pointed, but Hermione seemed to guess what Rose wanted to do, and reached out to gently grab her wrist.

“Don’t poke the baby’s head, Rose,” Hermione said sternly, and the girl’s eyes went wide.

“How does you _do_ that, Mama?” she asked, and Hermione smiled to herself.

Ron passed the baby on to Andromeda, who seemed to melt as she cradled little James. Harry beamed as he watched her, while Teddy looked curiously over his grandmother’s arm at the baby.

“What do you think of your baby cousin, Teddy?” Sirius asked when he, too, noticed Teddy looking, and the preteen flushed a little.

“He’s okay, I guess,” Teddy said with a small shrug. “I dunno why everyone’s making a big deal out of it, he’s just a baby. It’s not like he can play Quidditch yet or anything...”

“Don’t be rude,” Andromeda admonished without looking up as she rocked James gently in her arms. Teddy frowned, as though he wasn’t sure what he’d said to warrant his grandmother’s reaction. “Would you like to hold the baby?”

“No,” Teddy replied sourly, and crossed his arms.

Harry frowned as he watched the exchange, then glanced to Sirius, who had a similar look of concern in his eyes. He wrapped his arm more securely around Harry and offered him a gentle squeeze, while Harry leant into the embrace without a word.

 

An hour later, Harry’s healer let herself into the room as she pushed in a little bassinet on wheels, and politely told their little group that it was time to let Harry and James get some rest, for which Harry was grateful. He loved his family, but as it would turn out, having a baby was _exhausting_.

“We’ll come back tomorrow, mate, and you can visit with Mum and the rest in shifts, yeah?” Ron said as he stood up, once more with Hugo in his arms, while Harry hugged little James close, and nodded his head.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Harry agreed, “in _shifts_ , mind. If the entire Weasley clan pours in here the second visiting hours start, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ron waved his hand dismissively, which wasn’t exactly reassuring. He grinned, and filtered out of the room after Andromeda, Teddy, and Hermione, while Rose picked up the rear, looking back frequently, as though she was still tempted to prod little James’s head.

“How are you feeling, Harry?” Healer Singh asked as she set the bassinet next to his bed.

“Tired,” Harry said with a weak laugh.

“Yes, well that’s to be expected,” she replied with a chuckle of her own, whipping out her wand to check him over as she continued to speak. “Any pain or discomfort in your abdomen?”

“A few twinges, but nothing severe,” he replied. “I’m mostly just tired.”

“Well, try and stay awake for a bit longer, my trainee should be bringing in supper soon,” she said as she tucked away her wand and offered him a smile. “You may experience some pain as your body realigns itself, perhaps some cramping of the abdominal area. If it becomes too painful, or you start to bleed rectally, I want you to call for me straightaway, all right?”

“All right,” Harry said as he stifled a yawn, “a-are you sure I need to stay awake for dinner? I’m just so _tired_.”

“Ah,” the healer said, and smiled at him in understanding. “Some of those spells we used can be quite hard on the body. All right, I shall hold off on your meal and let you sleep, but Sirius,” she turned her attention to Harry’s husband, her expression suddenly becoming rather stern, “it is your job to make sure he eats when he wakes up. He won’t be able to produce enough milk for James without proper meals.”

“Consider it done,” Sirius said with a small smirk, and Harry nearly groaned out loud.

 _Oh, great,_ Harry thought as he eyed the older man. _Now he’s going to be completely insufferable._

Harry smiled through the conversation, before he turned to the bassinet that had been brought in, and tried to set James down into it, but gasped when a lancing pain shot through his abdomen. Sirius was quick to intervene, jumping up and circling the bed to help Harry set the baby down, then looked to the healer, who already had her wand out, and was casting the necessary diagnosing spells, and hastily offered them both a reassuring look as she lowered her wand, and nodded her head.

“Everything’s fine, Harry,” she said. “It is part of the healing process from the procedure—not everything can be healed magically straightaway.”

“But didn’t you say that if I felt any pain like this it would be bad?” Harry asked, his brow furrowing with both concern and confusion as he gazed at her.

“I asked you to tell me if there was any pain so that I could ensure that it isn’t something serious, and not to worry, Harry—it isn’t,” she explained patiently with the same smile on her face. “It’s normal to have discomfort after sutures are put in—even magical ones, which do a much better job of sealing the skin that their muggle counterparts, but it does still take some time for them to fully heal. I’ll be back tomorrow to check them, and in the meantime I just need you to rest, and try not to move too much when you’re not feeding or soothing your baby, all right? I’m sure your husband will be happy to make sure that you stay put, even when you’re feeling a bit restless.”

“I’m sure he will,” Harry said dryly as he eased back, and Sirius smirked, making it quite clear that he wasn’t going to skive off on the healer’s instructions.

Though Harry know that it was for his own good that Sirius keep him from moving too much _,_ he could not find it in himself to be very grateful when he was already completely fed up of being in bed. Instead, he let out a pitiful groan as he slumped back against his pillows, and ignored the laughter of his husband and healer as it filled the room.

Despite his despair over his inability to get out of bed, as Harry cast a glance over to the little bundle next to him, he felt his heart warm, and spirits lift. Little James let out a tiny sigh as he slept on, and Harry realized that despite his frustration at his husband and healer in equal parts, he’d never been happier.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: end I am aware that Teddy’s relation to Sirius (and by extension James) is a bit more complex than just being cousins, but I felt that referring to James as more than that would over-complicate things, and I felt it unrealistic to have them refer to them as such. Even in my own family where the relations are slightly foggy, we never go past referring to each other as cousins, not third cousins or whatever it might be.


	19. Irreplaceable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be August 20th. Enjoy :)

Chapter Nineteen – Irreplaceable

 

**29** **th** **June, 2009**

When Sirius pushed Harry, who was still bound to a wheelchair, and baby James into their home at last, it was barely in the nick of time. Immediately upon getting inside, the little infant, now wrapped in the blanket that his Papa had given him, began to scream.

“Merlin’s Tits, you got quite a set of lungs on you,” Harry said affectionately as he lifted the baby to his shoulder, and began to rub his back. “All right, there, there...”

Harry rocked him gently and continued to coo at him, while Sirius slowly rolled Harry over to the sofa, where he happily sat down, but not without a now-familiar twinge of pain in his abdomen, which his healer had reassured him would fade with time. Little James continued to cry while Harry checked if he was hungry—no—or wet—also no—but as far as Harry could tell, nothing seemed to be wrong with his child.

“Okay, what is it then?” Harry asked in the same soft, gentle voice as he rocked him. “Are you tired? You’ve only been awake for like half an hour, so maybe that’s not it...is it a scary new place? I know, it probably looks bad to your hyper-advanced baby eyes, but I promise it’s not awful, it’s _home_...oh, love, please, stop crying? Hmm...maybe you need the _man_ of the house... _Sirius!_ ”

“Yes, dear?” Sirius called back from the kitchen in a high, girlish tone of voice that made Harry roll his eyes.

“James wants his Papa, I think,” he said, and within two seconds Sirius had abandoned their tea as he zipped over to tend to his son.

Sirius scooped up James with an effortless sort of grace, and Harry watched in quiet amazement as the screams abruptly stopped, and the child let out a tiny sigh of contentment.

“Aw, love, did you want your Papa?” Sirius cooed as he sat next to Harry, and he laughed as he gazed down at the infant, who was giving Sirius a gummy smile. “I know, your Daddy is sort of clueless, but he does love you, so maybe you should try not crying when he holds you?”

The baby grizzled happily, and Sirius tried to hand James back to Harry, but immediately he began to cry again.

“All right, all right, you whiny little bugger,” Sirius said as he rested little James against his shoulder and rubbed his back. “Come on then, let’s go make tea for your poor, unloved Daddy...”

“Clearly I am just his food factory,” Harry said with mock offence as he stood up and followed them to the kitchen. Sirius was smiling while he supported the tiny bundle with one arm, and used the other to cast the necessary charms to heat the water, transport teabags to the teapot, and summon the milk, sugar, and biscuits. Harry wanted to be cross that his son didn’t seem to like him very much at the moment, but the image of Sirius as a new father, cradling his son so sweetly was difficult to ignore, and Harry was wholly incapable of ridding himself of his smile as he watched them together.

“You shouldn’t be standing,” Sirius admonished gently while he levitated the tea tray, and followed Harry back to the sitting room slowly, so as to not jostle the infant too much. “The healer said you’re to rest for at least a week.”

“I’m fine, love,” Harry replied as he sat back down on the sofa, and flicked his wand to summon James’s bassinet from their bedroom, which he set at the side of the sofa closest to Sirius. “If you wish to be a mother hen, focus on your son, not me.”

“That’s not hard,” Sirius replied as he settled down with the baby, and gently rested him along the crease of his thighs. “He’s the cutest little bugger I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed as he leant against Sirius’s side to gaze down at the baby, and reached out for one of his son’s little hands while James let out a wide yawn, which made Harry nearly want to burst from how sweet it was. James closed his tiny hand over one of Harry’s fingers, squeezing with a surprisingly strong grip as Harry added softly, “I just wish he had gotten your or my eyes...I’ve no idea where that blue came from...”

“It’s called being a baby, love,” Sirius said teasingly as he moved his upper body until he was able to offer Harry a kiss, while keeping his legs still to keep from dislodging his son. “It’ll be a while yet before his eyes change from baby blue to whatever they’ll be as he grows up.”

“Oh, don’t talk about him growing up, not yet,” Harry retorted as he reached down with his other hand to stroke the infant’s cheek as he yawned again. Harry desperately wanted to pick him up, but he didn’t want him to start crying again, either. “He’s only like four days old. I can’t even imagine him growing up, going to Hogwarts, you getting his first tattoo behind my back, him making us grandparents...”

“I would _never_ let him get a tattoo without your permission!” Sirius retorted, his voice heavy with offence at the insinuation, but he was grinning as he said it. Harry arched a brow at him, and Sirius smiled sheepishly. “Just a little one?”

“You are ridiculous, Sirius Potter-Black,” Harry said teasingly as he moved to kiss Sirius again, while he felt the little hand around his finger begin to relax. Harry glanced down, and smiled when he saw his son fast asleep, and he very gently tucked the little arm back into the blanket before he scooped him up, crossed in front of Sirius, and set him down in the bassinet. Sirius craned his neck over the edge of the sofa to watch, and Sirius beamed at Harry before he reached down to unnecessarily smooth James’s bundle of blankets, and tug down his little hat.

“He’s so perfect,” Sirius murmured softly, his voice thick with adoration, and Harry offered him a warm smile.

“He is,” Harry agreed as he gazed down at the sleeping bundle. “Even when he’s screaming his head off.”

“ _Especially_ when he’s screaming his head off,” Sirius quipped, and Harry chuckled softly as he circled the bassinet in order to sit back down next to his husband, and grabbed a biscuit off the platter.

“I just hope he grows out of his screaming sooner rather than later,” Harry said with a wry smile as he bit into the biscuit, and let out a little groan. “ _God,_ these are good...”

“I thought you hated the lavender-vanilla shortbread?”

“That was the pregnancy taste buds talking,” Harry retorted, and Sirius huffed a laugh. “Now that the little bugger’s out of me, my sense of taste is finally getting back to normal.”

“Does that mean I can burn the remaining three jars of peanut butter?” Sirius teased as he began to pour the tea, and Harry banished the biscuit crumbs from his lap to rain them down into Sirius’s hair, who let out a short, despairing cry before he had the good sense to silence himself, but thankfully his reaction did not wake the baby.

“Don’t be so wasteful,” Harry admonished, though he was smiling as he said it.

“If you suggest peanut butter and my cock in the same sentence again, I’ll make you sleep on the sofa,” Sirius retorted sweetly, and Harry huffed a laugh as he accepted one of the teacups from Sirius, and proceeded to add milk and sugar to it.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” Harry said with a soft moan as he sipped the tea, and he saw Sirius smirk out of the corner of his eye. “Better than sex, or whisky, or chocolate...”

“ _Excuse_ me?” Sirius demanded with mock offense, “what was that first one?”

“Love, be a dear and shut up,” Harry retorted before he sipped his tea again, then leant against Sirius’s side. “I haven’t had a good cuppa tea in _months_. You I’ve had all that time.”

“And I won’t be going anywhere any time soon,” Sirius replied as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders, and kissed the top of his head, making him smile.

“You better not,” Harry teased, “I’m the unloved parent, remember? I need you around for when James starts to scream again.”

“It’s still a little odd to think that we’re _parents_ now,” Sirius said, a note of awe in his voice. “Us. Harry and Sirius. Parents.”

“Papa and Daddy,” Harry filled in with a warm smile. “I don’t think it’s really sunk in yet for me...I’m still too tired to be shocked by it.”

“Why are you so tired?” Sirius asked as he began to stroke Harry’s hair, and he leant into Sirius’s touch with a soft sigh of contentment.

“Because your son needs to eat every three hours or so, so as a result I haven’t exactly gotten tons of sleep,” Harry said, and Sirius chuckled as he moved in to kiss Harry’s temple.

“Well, I have a possible solution to that, but it might be a bit uncomfortable for you...”

“Define _uncomfortable,_ ” Harry replied, and Sirius chuckled warmly. “Because I spent over nine months being uncomfortable, so I’m not exactly keen to do much more of it.”

“Hermione told me about this... _thing_ ,” Sirius explained nervously. “This muggle contraption that sucks milk into bottles...”

“Oh God, are you talking about a _breast pump_?” Harry demanded, staring at his husband incredulously, and Sirius ducked his head a little in affirmation. “Why the bloody hell would I want to use one of those things? Do I _look_ like Bessie the Cow to you?”

“No, love, it’s nothing like that!” Sirius protested, lifting his hands in surrender as he quickly explained, “I just thought if you prepared a few bottles and we put some sort of preservation charms on them, I’d be able to feed James while you rested without an interruption.”

“Oh.” Harry flushed, embarrassed that he’d assumed it would be for some other, less practical reason, but given that he was having a hard enough time just letting Sirius _look_ at him while he nursed James, the suggestion hardly sounded appealing. “I’ll...er...I’ll have to think about it.”

Sirius nodded, sipping his tea, and thankfully did not appear at all upset by Harry’s answer. This was a relief; though he loved his husband, his penchant for unpredictable behaviour sometimes made things a little stressful.

“So...” Harry swallowed, and stuffed the remainder of the biscuit into his mouth in an effort to give himself time to form his thoughts into words before he spoke again, “should we maybe talk about Teddy?”

Sirius winced, and didn’t look at Harry as he did so, instead fixing his gaze upon the empty fire grate, while James softly snuffled in his sleep next to them. Ever the Protective Papa, Sirius bowed over the edge of the bassinet to check on him, but once he was satisfied that James was fine, he sipped his tea again before he glanced towards Harry, and heaved a soft sigh.

“Yeah, we better talk about Teddy,” he said, his tone almost defeated, and Harry reached over to squeeze his hand gently, but it didn’t seem to lift his spirits very much. “I don’t understand...why is he being such a little arse? First he wouldn’t hold James when you had him, then when he showed up in the days after, he wouldn’t talk to either of us, and then he and Andromeda had that screaming match that scared the baby...is it all just preteen hormones?”

“I think it’s a little more than that,” Harry replied as he set down his empty cup, and heaved a sigh. “He probably feels a little left out, like we might not have time for him with the new baby. I made all these promises to him in the beginning that he wouldn’t be secondary to James, but given how much attention everyone’s paying us and the baby right now...he probably feels a little excluded.”

“So what do we do about it?” Sirius wondered aloud. “I can’t remember ever feeling like that when Reg came, and even if I did, my parents were never the type for warm, emotional gestures...”

“Maybe just remind him that we still love him?” Harry suggested with a slight shrug, “I don’t know what else we could do. We could...invite Teddy and Andromeda over, maybe so he doesn’t feel so singled out, and one of us can talk to him privately?”

“I vote you,” Sirius said, “you’re better at the _feelings_ thing.”

“The feelings thing?”

“You know...” Sirius trailed off as he gestured vaguely with his arms. “Feeling feelings. You know how to express things better than I can.”

“Which is sort of ironic, considering you cry easier than me,” Harry retorted teasingly, and Sirius snorted.

“I take it back, you are emotionally stunted and ill-suited to this task.”

Harry snorted and swatted his arm lightly, just as little James began to fuss again. Sirius set down his cup and scooped their son up without a moment’s pause, but even as Sirius rocked him he continued to whine and fuss, and Sirius’s small, fatherly smile began to fade.

“Here,” Harry said as he held out his arms, “let’s see if he’s hungry.”

Sirius handed the baby over, and Harry turned away from him self-consciously as he unbuttoned his shirt, and pulled his son up to his nipple. Immediately James latched on and settled down, while Harry carefully adjusted his shirt to hide his chest before he turned back to Sirius and offered him a meek little smile.

“I know it’s completely irrational, but I just feel so _bad_ whenever he cries, especially when I hold him,” Sirius said softly as he watched James nurse, and Harry smiled at him again.

“Back to the Mind Healer?” Harry offered, and Sirius chuckled softly.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a weak shrug. “I think I just need a little time to remember that making our son cry doesn’t necessarily make me a terrible father.”

“Woe betide you when our little blighter hits his teen years,” Harry teased, and Sirius chuckled warmly.

“Oh, who knows,” Sirius mused, “maybe he’ll still be a perfect little angel—”

“Love,” Harry interrupted, “please, I _beg_ you—don’t jinx it.”

Sirius chuckled, while Harry pulled the baby away from his chest as he slowly stopped suckling, and lifted him to his shoulder, patting his back gently like Sirius had taught him, until he let out a soft little burp.

Harry smiled to himself, and moved to cradle his son gently, and though he was looking up at Harry with a bemused sort of expression, at least he wasn’t crying this time.

“Finished being a little whiner then?” Harry asked softly as he set down James in his lap, and with a smile he grabbed his little hands gently, earning him a little baby giggle.

“I believe you’re forgiven,” Sirius said as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. “Want me to send an invitation to Andromeda for a sort-of Teddy intervention?”

“In a few days,” Harry said, his eyes not leaving his son as he spoke. “I’d like to rest a little before we face our next challenge, and we can use that time to put the last touches on Teddy’s new room.”

“I hope he likes it,” Sirius said with a small, wistful smile. “Although I won’t be shocked if he refuses to stay here for the next while, what with a very fussy baby around...”

As if on cue, James let out a little, discontented whine, and Harry cooed, scooping the infant up and rubbing his back, rocking him until he settled again.

“I think he heard you,” Harry whispered, and Sirius chuckled softly as he leant in to kiss Harry gently.

“Do you think you’ll be okay for half an hour or so?” Sirius asked suddenly, making Harry blink in confusion. “There’s something that I need to go pick up, but I don’t want to leave you alone if he’s gonna just start screaming for me again...”

“What do you need to get?” Harry asked curiously, and Sirius offered him a small, secretive smile. Harry rolled his eyes, and laughed softly. “All right, all right, just be quick.”

Sirius smiled again, and kissed Harry once more, then brushed a feather-light kiss to the top of James’s head before he moved to the fire, and was gone in a whirl of green flame.

 

**11** **th** **July, 2009**

Harry had little James cradled in his arms as he stood and watched Andromeda tumble out of his fireplace, closely followed by his godson. They stood up, and Andromeda siphoned the ash off their clothes with her wand, while Teddy looked as though he’d rather be _anywhere_ else but at Harry and Sirius’s house.

Harry felt his insides squirm unpleasantly, and he hoped that his feeling of doom for this evening was merely paranoia, and not some sort of premonition.

“Andromeda,” Sirius greeted, drawing Harry from his thoughts, and he watched as Sirius offered her a warm smile while he pulled her into a hug, then patted Teddy on the shoulder affectionately. “And Teddy, good to see you both. I hope you don’t mind takeaway, I’m afraid neither Harry nor myself had much time to throw something together the old-fashioned way.”

“I shall count my blessings then that you didn’t cook,” Andromeda teased, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“He can manage eggs and toast without much issue,” Harry offered with a grin, “so that is probably what we’d be having if Sirius had cooked like he offered to.”

“I said I could make an eggs and toast stew, but you wouldn’t let me,” Sirius complained, and both Andromeda and Harry visibly gagged at the mental image of such a thing, while Teddy merely looked perplexed.

“How d’you make eggs and toast stew?” he asked curiously, and Sirius shrugged.

“I was just gonna cook some fried eggs, make some toast, and put it all in a pot and add water...that’s what stew is, right?”

“Sirius,” Harry said, “you are hereby _banned_ from the kitchen.”

“What did I do this time?” Sirius demanded as the others laughed, though Teddy was still relatively stony-faced. Andromeda nudged him lightly, but it did little to remove the sour look from his expression.

_This is going to be harder than I thought_ , Harry thought as he adjusted his hold on his son, who had been blessedly quiet, thanks in no small part to Sirius’s latest gift to him, a little red dummy with a lion on it, displaying the house affiliation of his parents with no small amount of subtlety. Of all James’s gifts so far, this one was Harry’s favourite.

“Oh, now let me see my newest grandson,” Andromeda said, holding out her arms, and Harry chuckled, handing over the baby happily, while next to him Sirius looked perplexed.

“Isn’t James technically your cousin or something?” Sirius asked, and Andromeda laughed lightly as she waved him off, her eyes never leaving the infant.

“Or something,” she replied. “I cannot recall specifics, but it seems simpler to just call him my grandson...my _other_ grandson, that is.”

Teddy crossed his arms and glared sourly at the ground, while Harry and Sirius exchanged a worried look.

“C’mon, Ted,” Harry said as he moved forward and touched his shoulder gently, “I’ve got something to show you.”

Harry didn’t wait for the boy to respond, but instead began to steer him out of the sitting room and towards the hallway. Until recently, there had only been four doors leading to the other rooms of their little cottage, as well as a storage cupboard, but now, there were five. Harry smiled when he noticed how Teddy did not miss this, but he still seemed to be compelled to snipe, “won’t your baby just _die_ if you’re here with me instead of him?”

“Do you want that, Teddy?” Harry asked lightly, while he did his best to remain calm, and not lash out at his godson. In response to his question, Teddy looked perplexed.

“What?”

“Do you really want my _son_ to die?” Harry asked, putting extra emphasis on his relation to the infant, but careful to keep the venom out of his voice. Harry wanted Teddy to understand what he was saying, but at the same time, he didn’t want to be equally cruel to him. To Harry, it seemed a bit counterproductive.

In response to his words, Teddy’s sour look didn’t fade, but his eyes did drop down to the floor as they walked. Harry was quiet as he waited for an answer, and at last Teddy mumbled, “it’s just that...you did forget about me. You promised that you wouldn’t, but for the last fortnight, all I’ve heard about is the baby. I don’t get what’s so exciting about a little... _thing_ that does nothing but eat, sleep, and poop.”

“Teddy, we haven’t forgotten about you, and we certainly don’t feel like James will replace you. You’re my godson, and no one could _ever_ replace you,” Harry said, longing to reach out and embrace his godson, but something in the boy’s expression told Harry that he might not enjoy that right now. “I know it might feel that way, because of how everyone is talking about James, but that’s because he’s new. He needs lots of attention because he needs to eat a lot and everything, but once we settle into a routine, you won’t hear about him constantly. He’ll just be... _James_. We didn’t invite you over until now because we figured you could do without a Screaming Baby Intermission.”

“Then why did you want it, if it screamed all the time?” Teddy demanded, his arms still crossed, but if Harry wasn’t mistaken, he thought he spotted a slight softening to his expression.

“Ted, do you remember when you were about...eight or nine, I think, and you really wanted a dog? For weeks and weeks, all I heard was about how much you wanted a dog.”

“So what?” Teddy asked defensively, “a dog isn’t a _baby_.”

“Isn’t it?” Harry asked, “if you got the dog that you wanted, it would poop and you would have to clean it up, you’d have to feed it, walk it, pay attention to it, maybe even put other things aside to take care of it. In some ways, a baby is a lot like a dog. We love James, even if we have to clean up after him. And sure, even Sirius and I get a little freaked out by everything, but we’d never stop loving James— _or_ you. Even when you’re in a mood, we still love you. Just because there’s someone new in our lives doesn’t mean he’s replacing you, we love you both the same, Theodore Remus Lupin, and we _always_ will. Does that make sense?”

“A little...I guess...” Teddy mumbled, as though he was reluctant to agree with his godfather. “It’s just...even _Gran_ is all...besotted with the baby, and I hate...” he trailed off abruptly, and flushed a deep scarlet.

“Ted, for the first months of your life, I am fairly certain that you hardly touched the ground,” Harry pointed out, and Teddy blinked at him in confusion.

“What d’you mean?”

“I mean between me, Sirius, your gran, and all the Weasleys, you were never ignored or put down as a baby. Someone was always holding you, or playing with you, and we all _adored_ you—we still do, you know. Like I told you, the baby is just...new. I know that probably sounds a little bit horrible, but once things calm down, it won’t feel as much like everyone is constantly paying attention to James. People just like babies, they’re cute, and don’t answer back to us with snotty remarks.”

Harry winked at him, and Teddy laughed weakly as they reached the end of the hall, trailing to a stop in front of the newest door. Harry opened it and stepped back without a word, grinning as Teddy’s expression softened into one of shock as he stepped forward and into his new bedroom.

“Well?” Harry asked as Teddy took in the room, from the dusky blue walls that had been in his old room, to the bed, desk, wardrobe, and little Hufflepuff flag that had been pinned to his wall. “What do you think?”

“This is...it’s all my stuff!” Teddy proclaimed as he turned around to gaze at his godfather with wide eyes. Harry noted that there was still an edge of bitterness in his gaze, but it was certainly softened, and perhaps—hopefully—on its way out. “You didn’t get rid of it?”

“’Course we didn’t,” Harry said as he stepped up to Teddy’s side and slung an arm around his shoulders, making him laugh again. “What do I keep saying, Ted? _No one_ could replace you.”

 


	20. Dad Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Next update will be September 3rd. Enjoy! ^.^

Chapter Twenty – Dad Shock

 

**11** **th** **July, 2009**

Harry and Teddy made it back to the sitting room just as James began to cry, but before Harry could jump in and see what was wrong Sirius was already there. He scooped the infant up from Andromeda’s arms while she retrieved his dummy from the floor and cleaned it off quickly with her wand while James continued to cry in spite of Sirius’s efforts to calm him.

“All right, there, there...” Sirius said as he rocked him, then grimaced a little as he unravelled his blanket and checked his nappy.

“Need help?” Harry asked, arching a brow at his husband, and he shook his head minutely.

“It’s all right, Harry, I can do it,” Sirius said as he began to carry the crying child towards the hall. “You just visit with Andromeda and Teddy, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Without another word Sirius slipped away while Harry called, “be _fast_ ,” to his retreating back, and he sat down with a sigh as he listened to his crying child fade into the distance. Unlike the first week little James had been home, he no longer felt compelled to shadow Sirius when he took a turn changing him, though Sirius had yet to take Harry’s dire warnings of James’s impeccable pee aim to heart, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before something truly disgusting happened that would make Sirius swear off changing James forever.

“Why does he have to be fast?” Andromeda asked as she handed Harry James’s dummy, and Harry chuckled as he accepted it with a short nod of thanks.

“Because James seems to revel in peeing when his nappy is being changed,” Harry replied. “He’s peed on himself, the walls, his table... _me_...”

“Oh, just marking his territory, as all little boys are wont to do,” Andromeda teased, “just _wait_ until he starts potty training.”

“Ten galleons says I catch him and his Papa in the back garden writing their names in the snow,” Harry quipped, and Andromeda laughed loudly.

“Yes, I can certainly see that,” she replied. “I do not envy you, Harry.”

“Hey, Teddy,” Harry said suddenly, grinning a little as he turned to his godson, who was not looking particularly pleased by the baby talk. “Want to see a trick?”

“Trick?” he asked uncertainly, “what sort of trick?”

“Watch,” Harry said as he grinned, and held up his hand. He silently counted down from five, curling a finger against his palm with each number, until on zero he pointed to the hallway, where immediately a loud sound of disgust met their ears, followed by the sound of someone thundering to the loo, where the faucet began to run.

“What...?” Teddy stared. “What just happened?”

“Your baby cousin just peed on your uncle,” Harry said with a small grin, and Teddy rolled his lips together, very much like he was trying to keep from laughing. “I’ll be right back, I have a feeling Sirius may have left James alone on the changing table without thinking... _again_.”

Harry didn’t wait to listen for an answer, but instead got up and hurried down the hall to James’s room, where the baby was indeed lying on the changing table, naked from the waist down, and his little legs kicking clumsily as he whined, on the cusp of crying, but not quite there yet.

“Oh, love, did you pee on Papa?” Harry cooed as he swept in to finish changing him, then buttoned up his little onesie before he wrapped him back up in his blanket and gathered his son in his arms. “He’s a big princess, you know, and he loses _all_ his basic motor functions whenever you do that.”

James grizzled in his ear, still clearly upset by what had happened, but as Harry rocked him and rubbed his back he calmed down, his little blue eyes wide as he stared up at his father, before he let out a little yawn that made Harry smile.

Harry transported James back to the sitting room, popped his dummy back into his mouth and passed him to Andromeda as he said, “can you mind him? I need to have a word with my husband.”

“Take as long as you need, Harry.”

Harry smiled, passing the babe over, and once he was certain that James would not get fussy again, he turned and headed for the bathroom, where he found Sirius dry-heaving over the toilet, spitting out mouthfuls of foamy toothpaste as he brushed vigorously inside his mouth.

“What have I told you about leaving James unattended when he has an accident?” Harry asked coldly, and Sirius glared at him.

“He peed _in my mouth_ , Harry, excuse me if I freaked out a little—”

“—I don’t give a rat’s arse if he rolled over and shot diarrhoea down your throat, Sirius!” Harry cried angrily. “He’s barely a few weeks old, and I have told you a hundred times—you _cannot_ leave him unattended like that! What if I wasn’t here, and while you were in here having your drama queen moment, he rolled off the table and hurt himself? What would you do then?”

“I’d _never_ hurt him!” Sirius protested, anger and hurt lacing his voice as he glared at Harry. “How could you even _say_ that? I love him, he’s our son!”

“Love isn’t the same as responsibility, Sirius,” Harry said as he frowned at his husband. “I know that you love our son, that isn’t even a question, but you _need_ to put him ahead of your own comfort, no matter what. If he throws up on you, or shits himself, or _anything,_ he needs to come first. Do you understand?”

Sirius did not seem to know what to say in response to Harry’s admonishment, but if the dark look in his husband’s eye was any indication, this argument was far from over.

“I’ll be in the sitting room with Andromeda and Teddy when you finish,” Harry said simply, and with a heavy sigh, he turned and left Sirius alone, his mind swirling with miserable thoughts.

_Why can’t we just be_ happy _?_ Harry wondered despondently as he dragged his feet slowly down the hall. _If it isn’t one thing driving us apart, it’s another, and I_ hate _that it’s James’s welfare that’s coming between us now..._

However, when Harry did at last step into the sitting room, he was met with a surprise that quickly chased thoughts of his husband from his mind.

A pleasant surprise, for a change.

Andromeda and Teddy were seated upon the sofa, right where Harry had left them, but little James was not _quite_ where Harry had left him.

He was being cradled ever so gently in Teddy’s arms.

There was a soft look of awe upon the boy’s face that Harry had not seen in a long time, while Andromeda gently instructed him on how to hold the child.

“Watch his head, Teddy,” she said gently, and the boy angled his arm to better support the infant. James let out a small grizzle of contentment, and Teddy’s expression brightened in an instant. “There, good! See? He likes you.”

“This isn’t so bad,” he admitted, his tone seeming to aim for something reluctant, but it appeared as though he couldn’t quite manage it, and his joy over the experience shone through clearly. “He’s...not so bad.”

“Got over your grudge, then?” Harry teased lightly as he stepped back into the room, and Teddy glanced up, flushing a faint pink as he offered his godfather a weak smile.

“He’s not so bad,” Teddy repeated, “when he gets old enough, I could teach him stuff...like flying and...er, stuff.”

“If that _stuff_ involves pranks like blowing up a toilet or driving Filch mad, I think Sirius may have that covered,” Harry teased, making Teddy giggle.

“But you’re a dad now,” Teddy said, “aren’t you supposed to be...wait, or are you the mum?”

Andromeda choked on her tea while Harry felt his face flood with colour, and he heard a soft chuckling coming from the hallway. Harry glanced up, and saw Sirius slowly and awkwardly inching his way into the sitting room, his expression uncomfortably forced, and barely concealed his whipped-dog look under the smile.

“I would say he’s the dad, Ted,” Sirius said, smiling a little as he sat down, but pointedly did not touch Harry like he usually would—lending credence to Harry’s suspicion that Sirius was still cross with him over what had occurred in the loo. “Unless you want to be?”

“No, thank you,” Teddy replied, and held out the baby to Sirius, who happily scooped his son up, and held him close. “I’m not gonna be a dad, I’m gonna have a _cool_ job.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry asked with a warm chuckle, “like what?”

“An Auror, or a Curse Breaker, or famous Quidditch player, or something,” Teddy said thoughtfully, one finger resting on his chin as he spoke, and Harry chuckled as he offered his godson a knowing grin.

“So, basically, any job that one of the Weasleys might have?” Harry teased, and Teddy flushed brightly, embarrassed that he’d been found out, while the adults chuckled warmly, making his embarrassment more apparent. “It’s all right, Ted, don’t be embarrassed. Those _are_ cool jobs.”

“Yeah?” Teddy asked, his voice on the cusp of uncertain, just as little James let out a discontented whine, and once again his dummy tumbled from his mouth as he began to cry.

“I'll go see if he wants one of the bottles,” Sirius muttered softly to Harry, “unless you think I’m too _irresponsible_ to handle it—maybe I’ll accidentally leave James in the oven, who knows.”

Before Harry was given a chance to respond Sirius stomped off, and Harry groaned as he buried his face in his hands.

“Trouble?” Andromeda asked, and Harry laughed bitterly.

“Always,” Harry replied, and she offered him a sad sort of smile.

 

**20** **th** **July, 2009**

“Sorry about this,” Harry said as he pushed the pram into Helen’s office, though she didn’t react to the presence of his infant son beyond a soft sort of smile. “Sirius is still acting like a complete child, and I could find someone to mind James.”

“Yes, you implied as much in your letter, Harry,” Helen replied with a little smile, “it’s quite all right, I have had patients bring their children to sessions before, you needn’t be embarrassed about it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Helen replied with a small chuckle, “it is quite all right. Though if I am being honest, Harry, I had not expected to see you for quite some time; I had assumed you’d be enjoying new fatherhood too much to attend a session.”

“That was the plan,” Harry admitted as James began to fuss, and he scooped his nearly month-old son into his arms and rubbed his back gently, making his mind healer smile again. “But things with Sirius have been so weird lately, and I have no idea what to do. I mean, this was supposed to be the _good_ parts, you know? I mean, the curse that’s been hanging over our heads for years is finally sated, there’s nothing left to do but live our lives and finally get our happily ever after, and then he starts pulling all these mad things, I just...I feel so silly, rushing to you the moment things start to go wrong, but I don’t really feel like I have anyone else to talk to about all this. My friends would probably jump to conclusions and imply that Sirius is a bad father, and I don’t want that.”

“It sounds like you have a lot on your plate at the moment,” Helen said, and Harry laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” Harry agreed, and the mind healer offered him another smile.

“Let’s start at the beginning then,” she offered. “One of the best ways to get this sorted is to go through everything chronologically, and we will deal with all the issues that you are having, one at a time, instead of jumping around, all right?”

“Oh, right,” Harry said as he flushed a little. “Er, sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Helen said with a warm smile. “I imagine it is a very stressful situation, and sometimes we can’t help but panic when a problem seems too big for us to overcome on our own. The key thing to remember, Harry, is that you are not alone, and there is no reason to be afraid. I will help you, and I will never judge you.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, and Helen smiled again. “It’s just...Sirius. He made all these big promises to be there for me and everything, and now he’s being a _complete_ arse. I didn’t even feel comfortable leaving James alone with him, but I don’t know if that was me being Protective Dad-me, or if it was a genuine concern. I mean...he’s not exactly endangering James on a daily basis or anything, but there’s a few things I keep having to remind him about, and then when I do, he gets really upset and turns into a _complete_ drama queen. It’s so exhausting.”

“What sorts of things do you need to remind him about?”

“Well, not big things, but little things that could hurt the baby if he isn’t more careful,” Harry explained as he sighed with frustration. “Like...well, James seems to enjoy relieving himself while he’s getting his nappy changed, and I’ve told Sirius like _a hundred_ times that he needs to change James fast, or he’ll get covered in piss, but he never listens, and when James _does_ pee on him, Sirius freaks out and rushes off to the loo, leaving James alone on the changing table.

“And recently we’ve decided to switch to mostly bottle-feeding, since breastfeeding makes me uncomfortable, and a few times after Sirius has reheated the milk, he’s forgotten to test the milk’s temperature on his wrist—James could’ve been _scalded_. The first time it happened I was so angry, but then when it happened another couple of times, Sirius just got defensive, and yelled back at me just as much. And he wants to play with James, but I feel like he’s being too rough with him—he’s only a month old, and he’s still so fragile, and now we’re arguing about that too. I _hate_ it.”

“It sounds as though Sirius is not adjusting to parenthood very well,” Helen observed, “do you know why that might be?”

“Er...” Harry trailed off, rocking the baby in his arms as he thought, and when it appeared as though James was completely calm again, he settled the infant back in the pram before he looked back to the mind healer. “I’m not sure. I mean, he was sort of...he had a bad childhood, he left home at sixteen, but I don’t think Sirius ever really saw his parents ever being very...well, _parental_. I know that he loves James, I’m not even a little bit worried about that, but it’s not the same as taking care of someone. Maybe he just doesn’t know how? From what I know, he was always the one being taken care of, not the other way round.”

“It sounds to me as though Sirius is unused to being a caregiver,” Helen observed while Harry nodded a little in agreement to her words. “There is more to raising a child than just loving them, and I think Sirius is starting to learn that the hard way.”

“You’re not kidding,” Harry said with a weak laugh, and Helen smiled again. “I guess maybe...does he need a break? Should I ask Hermione and Ron to mind James and talk to Sirius without the baby around?”

“I am uncertain if that would be wise,” Helen replied as she steepled her fingers while she regarded Harry. “Taking away the perceived stressor may only strengthen his anxiety towards it once it returns. It may be more beneficial for you to take a little time away, and leave little James in Sirius’s care.”

“ _What?!_ ” Harry sputtered, his eyes widening in shock at her ludicrous suggestion, but her expression did not change. “Are you _completely_ mad?”

“It is my belief that Sirius is suffering from something of...let us call it _Dad Shock_ ,” she explained patiently. “He is quickly realizing that there is more to parenting than meets the eye, and he is trusting that you will be there to intervene when he makes a mistake. He may not be thinking this consciously, but the belief is still there. I think that if you leave him be, he will be forced to face up to his mistakes, and it may help him to take his parenting responsibilities more seriously.”

“Oh, I dunno if I can do that...” Harry said as his gaze fell to the infant in the pram, who was fidgeting a little in his blanket, but otherwise seemed fairly content. “I worry about James _constantly_ , and to leave him for a few hours...” he trailed off, and shivered a little.

“It may be beneficial to you both if you feel that strongly, Harry,” Helen said, and Harry blinked at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that holding on to your child that tightly can be as unhealthy as Sirius’s apparent parenting anxieties,” she explained patiently. “It will make allowing James the necessary freedoms and the room to grow more difficult as he gets older. If you start practising letting go a little now, it will not be as hard when he gets older, and in particular how James may not want his father hovering over him at all times, you see?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said, his gaze straying to his son again. He felt a sudden pull to scoop him up and hold him close, despite the fact that he seemed completely content at the moment. “Er...is it really that bad, like do I need to start _now_?”

“I would say it won’t be absolutely necessary until he is a few years older,” Helen said, “right now he needs all the love and attention you, Sirius, and the rest of your family wish to give him. However, I think it may be beneficial to _you_ to take a breather, and take a step back. James will not be left to the wolves if you take an afternoon to yourself, and it will give Sirius an opportunity to spread his wings, so to speak, as a parent. Additionally, I think a little time apart would do you both a world of good—it sounds very much like you and Sirius have been at each other’s throats for quite some time now, and that is not conductive to a happy, healthy home environment, either.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Harry said with a heavy sigh as he gave in to the need to have James close, and he scooped the infant up again. The baby gurgled contentedly as Harry inhaled his clean baby smell, and he saw Helen offer him a warm smile at the sight. “Right now, I still have a hard time even letting him out of my sight, much less leaving him in Sirius’s...questionable care.”

“Just remember that Sirius loves James, and he has proven more than once that he loves you, Harry,” Helen said gently. “He just needs a little more time to adjust to the trials of parenthood, and the fact that he is struggling does not make him an absent father, or by any means a bad one. He is learning as he goes, just as you are.”

“I know,” Harry replied as he rocked James gently, and one of his little hands reached out to grab clumsily for his glasses, making Harry smile. “I just...I don’t want anything bad to happen to James, ever. And Sirius being slightly careless turns me into this raging...” Harry paused, and bit his lip for a moment before he continued, “er... _b-i-t-c-h_ every time. I hate the added stress, I just wish he would smarten up about it.”

“Which is why I suggested leaving Sirius to mind your son for a while,” Helen reminded him gently. “You needn’t do it, it will always be your choice, but Harry, I do think that it will help.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Harry repeated as he dropped his gaze from the mind healer, and to his son, still supported in his arms. His little bright eyes gazed up at him, still baby-blue, and he was suckling contentedly on his dummy, apparently unaware of Harry’s inner turmoil as he tried to decide what to do.

“There is no rush,” Helen said, her tone still gentle, “but the sooner you do it, the sooner things may begin to settle down at home.”

Harry nodded, his lips twisting into a grimace as he hugged James closer. He knew what he had to do now.

The trouble was, he _really_ didn’t want to do it.

 


	21. Advice and Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the posting delay! Updates are being moved to Sundays, so next update will be September 23rd! Enjoy :)

Chapter Twenty-One – Advice and Apologies

 

**29** **th** **July, 2009**

Harry bounced his leg nervously, sipping at his strong black coffee while he stared at the doors of the café unblinkingly, while next to him James lay contentedly in his pram, suckling on his dummy, while his little legs kicked occasionally as he fidgeted under his blanket. Harry reached down to check on his son, and in that moment someone sat down across from him. Harry glanced up, immediately relaxing when he saw Ron sitting there with a slightly bemused look on his face.

“Hey, mate,” Harry said with a sigh of relief as he pushed a latté and brioche across the small round table towards his friend. “Thanks for coming.”

“Care to tell me what this is about now?” Ron asked as he crammed the pastry into his mouth and took a huge bite. “Isn’t Hermione the one you usually call on for these heart-to-hearts?”

“Very funny,” Harry said as he flicked a pastry crumb off his cheek that had flown from Ron’s mouth. “I normally do, but I needed to talk to someone who might not jump to Overprotective Mother-type conclusions, so I figured you’d be a better option this time.”

“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended,” Ron said, and Harry huffed a small laugh as his friend paused to sip his latté. “So what’s wrong this time?”

Harry immediately launched into his story, pointedly ignoring his friend’s _this time_ remark. He started from Sirius’s ongoing mistakes with James, to his conversation with his mind healer, and throughout the tale Ron listened intently, never once interrupting, until Harry finished with, “and now I don’t know what to do. What if I do what Helen suggested, and James actually gets hurt because of it?”

“Sirius wouldn’t hurt James, not like that,” Ron replied with a slight shrug. “I mean, I _definitely_ wasn’t a perfect dad when Hermione had Rose. Added to the fact that she was a bit of a surprise...well, you know Hermione, she read a _library_ on the subject of childcare, and then after she had Rose she gave high-strung a _whole_ new meaning, and we had lots of arguments because she’d jump down my throat if I did even the _slightest_ thing wrong with the baby. I think...he probably just needs practice, and he’ll get the hang of it in time. I wouldn’t completely write him off as a bad dad for what he’s doing, he’s just being a normal new parent.”

“Normal new parent?” Harry asked, arching a brow at his friend.

“Yeah,” Ron said as he grinned. “He has no idea what he’s doing, and he’s scared _shitless_.”

“So what you’re saying is I should take my mind healer’s advice, and leave James with Sirius for an afternoon or something?” Harry asked, and Ron nodded.

“We can tell my mum what we’re up to so that she won’t come rushing over the second Sirius has a crisis, that’d ruin the whole thing,” Ron said with a bit of a devious smirk, which made Harry laugh. “Maybe you could send your owls on deliveries that morning, so that way he won’t have an easy out if things get a little rough for him.”

“This is starting to sound like some sort of horror story or something,” Harry said as he sipped his coffee. “You know...cut off the main character’s means of contact so that they go mad?”

“It’ll just be for a couple of hours,” Ron said with a snicker. “I doubt Sirius would go mad that quickly.”

“He’s already a bit mad,” Harry said with a small, wry smile. “And he can be so sweet and caring, and I’d hate for something like how to raise our son to drive us apart, you know?”

“You lost me, mate,” Ron teased. “I think that’s more Hermione’s territory, the whole _emotional talk_ thing, but...I mean, er, it’s really obvious to pretty much everyone that Sirius adores you, so I think you two will work it out, I mean, you always do.”

“You know, I think Hermione was right,” Harry said as he chuckled, and moved to scoop James up as he began to fuss. “You really _do_ have the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

“ _Ha_ bloody _ha_ ,” Ron retorted with a snort, then held out his arms to Harry, wiggling his fingers invitingly as Harry began to fish a prepared bottle out of the baby bag under his chair. “Come on, let me feed him. If we’re doing this whole separation anxiety thing, we better start now, mama bear.”

“But...Helen said I don’t need to start, you know, straightaway,” Harry said feebly as he cradled his son in his arms, uncapped the bottle one-handed while he eyed Ron uncertainly.

“And if you freak out and go rushing back home?” Ron asked, arching a brow. “Harry, I have two kids, which is more than you, if you remember. It’s not like I’ll drop him or something. Come on, you can trust me.”

“Yeah, unless you count Sirius,” Harry said dryly, which caused Ron to snort as Harry gave in, and gently handed the infant over, closely followed by the bottle. “Fine, you win, just don’t drop him or anything.”

Ron smirked at Harry’s remark, almost as though he was uncertain whether or not to be offended by it. With one arm supporting Harry’s son, he used the other to heat up the bottle with his wand, and Harry smiled as he watched Ron test it on his wrist before he brought it to James’s mouth, and he latched on immediately with a content sort of gurgle.

“Super Dad,” Harry said with an approving smile, and he chuckled as Ron’s ears turned red.

“So, you gonna do it, then?” Ron asked, clearing his throat a little, as though he was trying to divert attention away from himself.

“Soon,” Harry admitted as he watched James finish eating, and Ron lifted him to his shoulder to burp him. “But after my birthday. If it all falls apart, I’d rather it be after, you know?”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed as James let out a soft, milky burp, and he handed the infant back to Harry. “I know.”

 

**31** **st** **July, 2009**

“Hey, we’re home,” Harry called as he rolled the pram through the front door, and Sirius glanced up from his novel to smile at them faintly.

“And how was your trip to visit Andromeda and Teddy?” Sirius asked, his tone stiff, making Harry’s stomach churn with unease at the sound of it.

“It was fine,” Harry replied, smiling weakly as he gazed at his husband, and tried to ignore the icy cold air that seemed to radiate between them so often these days; Harry _hated_ that it was on his birthday, of all days. “Breakfast Tea with only a few people makes a relaxing change compared to the chaos of the Burrow, and Teddy is getting more comfortable with his baby cousin, which was nice to see.”

“You used to enjoy the chaos of the Burrow,” Sirius noted with a curiously concerned look on his face. “Why the sudden change in attitude?”

“We have a five-week-old son who has an aversion to sleep,” Harry said as he scooped the fussy baby out of his pram and handed him to Sirius, and watched as James immediately settled down upon finding himself in his Papa’s arms. “I’m too tired for so much excitement.”

“Fair,” Sirius replied as he smiled down at James, and rocked the infant gently, then added, “I guess I haven’t been everything I should be, eh?”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Harry said as he sat down at the table next to his husband. “You’ve just not...er...taken to parenting as quickly as you probably thought you would...right?”

“That about sums it up,” Sirius said with a soft, despondent sort of sigh as he lifted the baby to his shoulder and rubbed his little back gently. “I’m sorry things have been so strained between us, Harry.”

“I thought things were supposed to be _good_ now,” Harry said, his voice catching a little as he gazed at Sirius. “You were supposed to help me, and be everything that I—that _we_ needed, and instead you’re...” Harry’s breath hitched and he rubbed at his eyes, dislodging his glasses in the process. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking about this right now.”

“Love, it’s all right to say it,” Sirius said softly, lurching forward as though he wanted to embrace Harry, then belatedly remembered the baby in his arms, and stopped himself. “I know I’ve been a right arse, and we’re both _exhausted,_ which is making everything worse—you more than me.”

Harry bit his lip, his initial plan of leaving Sirius and James alone with no warning crumbling as he gazed at his husband. Suddenly, doing it in that fashion seemed like nothing short of a _terrible_ idea.

Harry took a small breath, a new plan forming in his mind as he asked, “Er...would you be completely offended if I asked you to...to...” he hesitated for a moment, trying to gauge Sirius’s reaction, but his expression was unnervingly blank. “...To mind James while I go over to Ron and Hermione’s to sleep on their sofa for a few hours? Not today, I mean, but sometime soon?”

“You’d really trust me alone with our son for a few hours?” Sirius asked teasingly, but when Harry’s eyes began to fill with tears, he blanched. “Fuck, Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was a bad joke. A bad, bad joke.”

“It’s all right, Sirius,” Harry said as he sniffed, and took off his glasses to rub roughly at his eyes. “I don’t even know _why_ I’m crying...I thought that all the wonky hormone stuff was over now...”

“You’re just tired, love,” Sirius said, with a nervous sort of smile. “It’s a win-win, you can go over there and sleep for a few hours, or Andromeda’s maybe, it would be quieter, and just have a nice long nap while I take care of our little blighter.” He paused, a look of hesitation crossing his expression as he asked, “er, if I get into trouble, can I call you?”

“If I am to go visit my friends or godson for an afternoon _sans_ my wonderful son or husband, you’re on your own barring lost of limb or underwear on fire,” Harry said simply, and promptly wrinkled his nose. “ _Sans?_ Eugh, now I’m starting to _sound_ like you.”

“You say that like it’s a _bad_ thing,” Sirius said with a snort, “and what’s this about underwear on fire?”

“I heard Bill say it to Victoire that Christmas we spent at the Burrow a few years ago,” Harry explained with a small chuckle. “He was tired of her constantly getting up, so I heard him drag her back to bed and tell her, _don’t get out of bed again unless your underwear’s on fire_.”

“I’m logging that away for when James starts walking and talking,” Sirius said with another short laugh. “Because between you and me, you _know_ this little boy is going to have more energy than a Firebolt.”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry agreed, smiling a little as he watched Sirius support little James in his arms, his expression softening to something warm and tender.

Watching his husband, Harry could see that Sirius was entirely capable of being the wonderful, doting father that he so desperately wanted to be.

The only challenge now was getting Sirius to believe it as well.

 

~*~

 

The remainder of Harry’s birthday was more or less quiet, but punctuated by James’s gentle, fussy cries every few hours. At dinner—takeaway from Harry’s favourite Indian restaurant—Sirius gifted Harry with two small packages. The first was a tiny bottle of violet potion that Harry recognized as a simple sleeping draught, and labelled, _good for eight hours of uninterrupted rest_. The other was a frame bearing two pictures side by side. On the left was Baby Harry held aloft by a smiling and waving James and Lily, and on the right was Sirius and Harry at the hospital with James, smiling broadly at the camera.

“Thank you, Sirius,” Harry said with a warm smile. “These are...so thoughtful, for different reasons, you know?”

“I know,” Sirius replied, and moved in to peck Harry on the lips lightly. “Just do me a favour and _warn_ me before you take the potion so I don’t panic and think you’ve slipped into a coma, all right? This is the good stuff, and you’ll be out for exactly eight hours.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry said with a small chuckle, “I’ll remember to say something so that you’ll know that you need to babysit James...” he trailed off when Sirius began to shake his head, and Harry blinked in confusion. “What?”

“We’re not gonna do that,” Sirius said seriously, “the father babysits and the birth father parents...thing. He’s my son too, I plan to be there for him as much as you, so I won’t be babysitting him, I’ll be parenting him...you know?”

“I never thought about it that way,” Harry admitted as he cast a glance to the bassinet where James was lying while they ate, dressed up in a little spring green and white-striped onesie, and kicking his little legs animatedly as he babbled around his dummy. “Is it really that big of a deal though? I mean...it’s just a word.”

“So’s _mudblood_ ,” Sirius countered, his voice bland and unassuming, lending to the reassurance that Sirius was not cross with him, but merely voicing an opinion.

“Point,” Harry replied, and nodded his head. “Okay, no babysitting. You get full parenting rights, same as me.”

Sirius smiled, and returned to his tandoori chicken without a word.

Harry mirrored his husband as he set aside his gifts and resumed eating his eggplant curry, which was followed by a small chocolate cheesecake that Sirius and Harry happily shared.

The tension of the household seemed to be ebbing, and Harry could sense the difference as they moved from the dining room. Harry took to the task of giving James his evening feed, checking his nappy, and putting him to bed before he cast the usual monitoring charms, and headed back to the sitting room, where Sirius had already prepared a pot of tea for them to share. Harry helped himself to a cup, then snuggled into the crook of Sirius’s arm, resting his head lightly on his husband’s shoulder while the WWN radio played softly in the background.

“This time next year he’ll probably be walking,” Sirius said suddenly, “and maybe even talking a little. I can’t remember the order of those things. Does it ever scare you...how fast it all goes, I mean?”

“Not really,” Harry admitted, shrugging a little as he took a small sip of his tea. “Though that could be our ages. I’m not quite of the age yet where I feel as though my life has passed me by.”

“Excuse me, I’m not _that_ old,” Sirius said with an affronted huff that made Harry chuckle. “I mean, bloody hell, Harry, when you say it like that you make me sound like I’m a hundred and fifty.”

“With the way your bones creak in the morning you have the audacity to proclaim that you’re _not_ old?” Harry teased, and laughed when Sirius flicked his knee lightly.

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius countered with a wry grin of his own, “you make that old man groan sound every time you stand up.”

“So in sum, we are completely screwed where James is concerned,” Harry filled in, “we’re gonna be running after a little kid for the next ten years until he goes off to Hogwarts.”

“Completely,” Sirius agreed with a smile, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

That night, Sirius and Harry readied themselves for bed just as James woke up with a cry, and Harry, already with his teeth brushed and in his pyjamas, settled down on the bed with a bottle in hand as he scooped up his crying son, and offered him the warmed milk.

As his boy ate, Harry smiled down at him warmly, and he felt much of his stress over the last weeks begin to melt away. It was so simple and comforting to take care of his child, and Harry loved it dearly.

“Oh, wow,” a voice said from the door, and Harry glanced up to offer his husband a shy smile. “No matter how much time passes, I never get tired of seeing you with him like that. It’s so...perfect.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Harry admitted with a soft chuckle while he dropped his gaze to James, who still seemed to be eating contentedly. “It feels so... _right_ , tending to him like this.”

“I’m glad,” Sirius replied as he padded over to the bed in his own pyjamas, and sat next to Harry on the bed. “I was a bit worried there for a while, you hated being pregnant so much sometimes, but you’ve taken to parenting like you were born for it. It’s beautiful, Harry.”

Harry flushed, smiling weakly as James finished eating, and he brought the baby to his shoulder to burp him. He then paused to allow Sirius to kiss the baby’s forehead before he set him back down in his bassinet, and banished the bottle to the kitchen before he settled down next to Sirius.

“It just feel so natural, I don’t know,” Harry said softly so as to not wake his son, who had promptly dropped back off to sleep. “Like...feeding him, changing him, playing with him...it’s so...I don’t know, _right_ , I guess.”

“You must be one of those people who come to parenting as naturally as breathing,” Sirius replied with a note of envy in his voice. “It’s good, love.”

“You’ll get there, you know,” Harry said as he arched up to give Sirius a gentle kiss before he added, “you just need a little more time.”

“It’s just one more thing in my life I’ve screwed up,” Sirius said with a heavy sigh. “I tried _so hard_ to get all this stuff with you right, and look how it turned out.”

“Perfectly?”

“I’m being serious, Harry,” Sirius said, and Harry arched a brow, making him snort. “You know what I mean.”

“I know, but you haven’t messed anything up,” Harry said firmly. “He’s only a few weeks old, and he won’t be a baby forever. He’ll grow up, and you’ll teach him about all sorts of stuff, like... how to write your name in the snow with pee, and what to wear on a first date, and what Hogwarts passageways to use to not get caught by Filch, and how to have perfect hair, and...you know, stuff.”

“So are you saying that it’ll be my fault if our son turns into a troublemaker with perfect hair and deviant urination habits?” Sirius asked teasingly, making Harry huff a soft laugh.

“He’ll probably be that anyway, so...yes, exactly,” Harry replied, grinning a little as he shifted closer, until Sirius relented and pulled the younger man flush against him.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you, Harry?” Sirius murmured softly, and Harry smiled up at him brightly.

“Yeah, but you can tell me again,” Harry said in a similarly soft tone, “because I never get tired of hearing it.”

“I love you, Harry,” Sirius said softly, reverently, and Harry leant in to kiss his husband softly.

“I love you too, Sirius,” Harry replied against his lips, “ _so_ much.”

Little James let out a soft coo from his bassinet, and both parents broke apart with a gentle laugh.

“I suppose this is the most we can do for now,” Harry said teasingly, and Sirius laughed in response.

“Let’s just get some sleep, yeah?” Sirius asked, and Harry nodded his head, sighing softly as he relaxed in Sirius’s warm embrace, and quickly fell asleep.

 


	22. A Father's Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It is with a heavy heart that I announce that this is the last chapter of this story. However, there will be an epilogue to come on the usual posting day, two weeks from now, so expect it on October 8th. ^.^ please enjoy, and thank you guys so much for following this story for so long, it’s been such a pleasure going on this adventure with all of you.

Chapter Twenty-Two – A Father’s Love

 

**17** **th** **August, 2009**

Harry tumbled out of Andromeda’s fireplace choking on ash and soot, and even as he tried to right himself, he heard Andromeda gently chastising her grandson gently as she said, “one moment, Teddy, let him get in past the grate before you greet him.”

Harry smiled to himself when he heard Teddy let out a little grumble, and after siphoning off all the soot with his wand he looked up and offered his godson a grin.

“Hey, Teddy,” Harry said, and Teddy offered him a shy little half-smile, as though he was caught somewhere between wanting to be excited to see his Uncle Harry, and feeling that telltale prepubescent need to deny that he was excited about it, which made Harry almost want to laugh out loud.

_When James is old enough to feel too cool to openly like his parents, Sirius will be totally devastated,_ Harry thought with a wry smile, while he momentarily imagined the puppy-dog look his husband would adopt in such a scenario.

“No baby today?” Teddy asked curiously, and Harry shook his head.

“Your baby cousin is spending some quality time with his Papa today, and I am having a sleepover with you and your gran,” Harry said with a small smile, but Teddy appeared more confused than ever.

“What, like...a baby break?” he asked, and Harry snorted at his word choice.

“Something like that,” Harry said with a small laugh as he clapped Teddy on the shoulder before the pair of them moved towards the sofa, where a spread of sandwiches, pumpkin juice, and a bottle of wine was waiting for them. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love my son, but babies are a _lot_ of work. I haven’t exactly been sleeping well, so tonight is my chance to get a full eight hours with no interruptions.”

“Do babies not sleep a lot?” Teddy asked curiously as Andromeda joined them, sitting on the armchair adjacent to the sofa, and poured herself and Harry each a glass of wine, which Harry happily scooped up and sipped, just barely managing to swallow a moan at the taste of it. It had been _ages_ since he’d had a good, fruity wine like this.

“They do, but in small spurts, which means you’re woken up every few hours by them being hungry, or needing a change, or just needing to be held,” Harry explained as he took another sip of the wine, while Teddy helped himself to a sandwich. “Babies are really needy.”

“Babies sound an awful lot like Uncle Sirius, if you ask me...” Teddy muttered under his breath, clearly not intending to be overheard, but given that Harry was right next to him he caught every syllable, and choked on his wine as he began to laugh.

“You’re not wrong,” Harry replied, grinning a little, and Teddy laughed, visibly relieved that Harry wasn’t cross with Teddy for his remark.

 

They spent the afternoon eating and chatting, and after Harry’s second glass of wine he switched to tea, quite eager to have a pleasant day with his godson and Andromeda, instead of one that ended with a hangover. Teddy appeared thrilled that he had his Uncle Harry all to himself, though at the same time it seemed as though he was trying to hide it, giving Harry the impression that Teddy knew his unwarranted jealousy would not be looked upon as a welcome thing.

“So, Ted,” Harry said as early evening began to set in, “I heard you plan on trying out for your House Team this coming year?”

As he spoke, Andromeda excused herself to go and start dinner, though at the same time she gave Harry a rather severe look when he moved to get up and help her, and he resigned himself to truly being the guest as he turned his full attention to Teddy, just as the boy nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” he replied while he picked at the edge of the sofa, his eyes focused away from his godfather. “My housemate, Stan, he said that I’d be a good Chaser since I’m quick, but don’t notice things, so I don’t think I’d be a very good Seeker...”

“I could always help you practice if you want,” Harry offered, “you know...back in my time at Hogwarts, I wasn’t just a Seeker, I was also Team Captain...”

“But Uncle Harry, that was _ages_ ago—” Teddy began, and Harry sputtered indignantly, making Teddy’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I’m _thirty_ , Teddy!” Harry said, “that’s _not_ that long ago.”

“Blimey, I thought it was just Uncle Sirius who was touchy about getting older...” Teddy retorted, grinning a little, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“Watch your mouth, you’re not too old for a smack, you know,” Harry said, mirroring Teddy’s grin—both of them knew Harry would never have the heart to actually hit him.

 

An hour later, Andromeda called them for dinner. Harry happily dug into roast chicken, potatoes, and garlic runner beans, punctuated by idle chitchat and more wine, followed by rich chocolate-raspberry custard, topped with candied nuts.

“Andromeda, that was _amazing_ ,” Harry said with a small groan as he leant back in his chair. “You have _got_ to show me how you cook like that.”

“It’s not so difficult,” she replied with a warm smile. “And you are quite handy in the kitchen yourself, “Sirius and James are lucky men.”

“Don’t call James a _man_ , Gran,” Teddy complained. “He still can’t even sit up on his own.”

“He’s still my little man, Ted,” Harry said with an affectionate smile, and the boy rolled his eyes.

“You’re so weird, Uncle Harry.”

 

They passed the rest of the evening pleasantly enough, with Harry happily taking to the task of sending young Teddy off to bed, before he and Andromeda sat down together for a nightcap of her good scotch, which they sipped in silence before she asked, “so, how do you think Sirius is doing with my second grandson?”

“Honestly? I have no idea,” Harry replied with a weak laugh, and dropped his gaze to the glass in his hand as he felt some of his pleasant enjoyment of the evening begin to fade. “I mean, I just don’t understand Sirius’s attitude.”

“Which attitude would that be, exactly?”

“His Shitty Parent attitude that he’s adopted lately,” Harry explained with a grimace. “I mean...okay, maybe _Shitty Parent_ is an exaggeration, but...he was just by and large so great during the whole process of getting my body ready for pregnancy, then the actual pregnancy itself, and even before that he always talked about how he wanted kids, and how he used to babysit me and everything, and I just don’t understand why he’s being so...so...careless all of a sudden.”

“Harry,” Andromeda began, before she paused to down the rest of her scotch, then resumed speaking. “The thing about parenthood is that you can be the most prepared person in the world—you can read all the books, take all the classes, babysit all the children you want, but nothing really prepares you for being a parent. On top of all that, I think Sirius is just tired. He’s been under so much stress from trying to help you through all this that he forgot to take care of himself while you were pregnant, and now he’s just starting to crack. He and I have spoken a number of times over a _number_ of bottles of firewhisky, and most of all, he is scared of doing to James what his parents did to him.

“I think his attitude might be less that he is being a careless parent, and more that he is just so fatigued from all the stress he is under that he is forgetting little things, and trusting that you’ll be there when he makes a mistake. This little break you’re taking will be good for all of you, and give Sirius a chance to focus solely on his son, and not have to worry about you at the same time.”

“And maybe not worry that I’ll jump down his throat at the same time, right?” Harry asked, his tone half-teasing, and Andromeda chuckled to herself as she poured another round.

“Perhaps,” she admitted as she took a small sip. “He loves you, but you both are so stressed about the baby that it makes for a complicated time as you find your roles as parents. It’s not necessarily bad, mind you. You’ve added an unknown element to your marriage, and if you were like Ted and I...we were all over each other in those first few months on how to best raise little Dora. Once we found a balance, our home life became _much_ less chaotic.”

“You sound an awful lot like my mind healer,” Harry remarked, chuckling a little as he took a sip of his own scotch.

“I have lived a long time, and after raising two generations of my family, I have a little experience in these matters, Harry,” she said as she gave Harry a warm, motherly smile, and like a healing balm on a wound, he felt some of his stress and anxiety begin to melt away.

 

Andromeda offered Harry a third glass of scotch, but after two he was ready for sleep, or karaoke—he wasn’t entirely certain which.

Given that Andromeda took to the task of ushering him off to bed upon his refusal, Harry supposed it would be the former, and he sluggishly went through his nighttime rituals of brushing his teeth and tugging on his pyjamas before he flopped down bodily into the guest bed and burrowed under the covers, habitually reaching for Sirius as his did so, and found his fingers dancing through air.

“Right,” Harry mumbled to himself, “’m at Amdgrowmedas,” he slurred in his tipsy, sleepy state, and sat up a little, patting the empty side of the bed a little more, as though it might make Sirius appear.

The small action did not make Harry feel any better about the hole that seemed to have settled in his heart. He rolled so that he would not see the empty side of the bed, and pressed one of the larger pillows against his back, pretending it was Sirius. After that, he downed the potion that Sirius had given him on his birthday, and he settled down to try and get some sleep.

 

**18** **th** **August, 2009**

Harry woke well past eleven the next morning, and next to his glasses on the bedside table, he found a quarter dose of hangover potion, as well as a tall glass of water.

Harry choked down the vile concoction eagerly to get rid of the unpleasant twinge in his head before he guzzled the water down, and let out a little sigh as he felt the pain begin to recede.

He lay in bed for a few more minutes, relaxing and enjoying the peaceful calm of the late morning, until his bladder and stomach began to concurrently demand he get up, and with a small sigh he drew on his dressing gown before he headed to the toilet for his morning business before he traipsed to the dining room, where he found Teddy buried behind a stack of textbooks, scribbling frantically on a scroll of parchment, and Andromeda was seated at the other end with a cup of tea and trashy romance novel, feigning the act of relaxing with a book, but Harry had a sneaking suspicion that she was actually supervising Teddy to make sure he completed his holiday schoolwork.

“Harry, you’re finally up!” Andromeda said with an approving smile, “any longer and I would have started to worry that you’d slipped into a coma.”

Harry smirked wryly at her remark, remembering how Sirius had said something similar over his birthday, while he watched her flick her wand at the silver bell in the centre of the table, revealing a sumptuous breakfast of toast, bacon, sausages, eggs, beans, and fried tomatoes, along with plenty of black coffee.

“How long did I sleep?” Harry asked as he went for the caffeine first, and nearly moaned aloud at how damnably _good_ it was— _nothing_ like his coffee at home.

“Nearly eleven hours.”

“I thought you were dead, but Gran wouldn’t let me check,” Teddy piped up, grimacing when his grandmother immediately pointed to his essay, and with a small groan, he returned to it.

“Nice to know how much faith you two have in me,” Harry teased as he speared a tomato, and shoved the entire slice into his mouth, which turned out to be a terrible idea as it scorched his tongue.

“It’s good for you to catch up on your sleep,” Andromeda said conversationally as she set her book aside. “With a nearly two-month-old at home, one _never_ sleeps.”

“Or a twelve-year-old,” Harry quipped, his grin widening a little as his godson shot him a glare over his stack of books, and Andromeda chuckled warmly, but did not disagree.

Harry ate his way through the breakfast plate, which kept refilling itself until Harry felt as though he might explode, and he pushed away the platter with a tiny groan.

“I think I’m going to shower, then get going,” he said, and Teddy’s eyes shot up from his essay in alarm.

“So soon?” he asked, a lilt of disappointment in his voice that made Harry’s chest ache.

“Well, Sirius has been with James, alone, for...” he paused, and checked his watch, “almost twenty-one hours, and I have a feeling I’ll have a _lot_ of damage control to do when I get back. That man is like a _dog_ , I swear—”

Harry broke off, realizing what he’d just said, and laughed to himself, while Andromeda looked on with amusement, and Teddy stared at him with confusion.

 

~*~

 

Harry left Teddy and Andromeda alone, just as Andromeda once more tapped pointedly on Teddy’s books, and barked something about how he shouldn’t’ve left his homework this long, with less than a fortnight until the new term began.

Under the shower spray, Harry laughed to himself as he tried to imagine himself or Sirius saying something like that to little James. Every day the baby seemed to look more and more like Sirius, and only his untidy hair hinted at who his other father was. He had Sirius’s face, Sirius’s dimpled cheeks—and Sirius’s eyes.

Though Harry had learnt through Hermione that most muggle babies’ eyes changed colour later on, according to his wizarding books (and his healer), magical children develop quicker in some respects, and slower in others. As a result, little James’s eyes had shifted from bright baby blue to a silvery grey much sooner than Harry had expected, cementing Harry’s first assumptions that James was most certainly a mini-Sirius in absolutely every respect, and the thought made him nearly giddy with joy.

Musings of his son, and how handsome he was getting filled Harry’s mind, and he grinned to himself. It felt foolish to miss him and his husband after being away from them for barely a day, but at the same time, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to feel too ashamed by this fact—they were his family, and Harry loved them more than anything else in the world.

 

“You look cheery,” Andromeda noted as Harry stepped back out and into the sitting room twenty minutes later, his hair still damp from the shower, his rucksack over his shoulder, and a broad smile upon his face.

“Just anxious to get home,” he replied, and chuckled when Andromeda gave him a knowing look, while Teddy gazed at him as though he couldn’t understand _why_ he was so excited to go home.

“I’m sure Sirius will be _thrilled_ to see you,” Andromeda said as she continued to beam at him, then got up from her spot at the table and moved in to offer him a hug, then began to lead him towards the fireplace in the sitting room, with Teddy trailing behind them. “Don’t ever hesitate to come back, you or Sirius, if you ever need a nap, and of course Teddy and I will be happy to babysit if you two need some...alone time.”

Harry flushed a deep scarlet at her words, his wry smile turning quickly into a snort of laughter when Teddy muttered, “ _ew..._ ” just a little too loudly.

“We just might take you up on that, Andromeda, thanks,” Harry said as he offered her a smile, then he turned to Teddy, and opened his arms. “Do I get a hug, or are you too old for that now?”

Flushing as though he was in front of an audience of his peers, Teddy shuffled forward and hugged Harry tightly, murmuring, “you’ll come visit again before I go off to school, right?”

“’Course, Ted,” Harry replied as he hugged the boy back, and smiled warmly at him. “And we’ll be on the platform to see you off, just like last year. That’s a promise. I know I’ve said it probably a hundred times since James was born, but... Sirius and I will _always_ be there for you, no matter what. And if you need to talk, we’re just an owl or a Floo Call away. Always.”

Sniffling softly, Teddy muttered, “ _always_ ,” back to him, softly enough that it was unlikely that Andromeda would overhear. He stepped back, his eyes a little shiny, and he offered Harry a weak, quivering smile, which Harry returned before he turned to the fire, and grabbed a pinch of Floo powder out of the bowl upon the mantelpiece.

 

When Harry tumbled out of the fireplace, he was met with an unnerving, eerie dead silence.

He jumped up, his clothes and glasses still smeared with soot as he looked around, but Sirius and James were nowhere to be found.

“Oh God, this is all my fault,” Harry muttered, heart in his throat as he began to rush from room to pristine room, checking everywhere for his husband and son, until he found them, at last, in the master bedroom.

Sirius was grinning as though he knew that Harry would panic the moment that he did not immediately spot them in the sitting room, and only the tiny sleeping form of James in Sirius’s arms kept Harry from yelling at his husband over it. Instead he tiptoed forward silently, while he took in the sight of Sirius’s oddly stunning form.

It was quite clear that Sirius had barely slept—he was pale, his eyes were raccoon-like and puffy, and his unwashed hair had been pulled into a high bun out of his face, though a long strand had fallen from it, and slightly shaded his silvery eyes. He was dressed in a pair of pyjama bottoms and a loose T-shirt, looking every part the exhausted, half-dead new parent, and yet somehow, he still looked exquisite.

Harry bowed forward, intending to kiss Sirius only once in greeting, but once he started, it was difficult to stop, and it was only after he reminded himself that his son was in Sirius’s arms that he pulled back with a soft, frustrated whine, while Sirius asked, “how was your night?”

“Restful,” Harry replied, his mouth quirked into a small half-smile as he climbed onto the bed next to Sirius, and curled into his side. “Yours?”

“Not quite so restful,” Sirius replied, smirking a little. “I think James screamed from the moment you left until about an hour ago. And when he wasn’t screaming, he was throwing up on my leather jacket, or soiling his nappy ten seconds after I changed him, and then I finally, _finally_ got him to sleep, and despite him being a right terror all day, I’m not cross about it. I think he just missed his Daddy—we both did.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “it was weird sleeping without you last night. If I wasn’t so tipsy from all the scotch Andromeda gave me, and your potion, I swear I wouldn’t’ve slept at _all_.”

“It’s her tried and true tactic for her adult relatives,” Sirius said teasingly, “just get them so sloshed that they pass right out at night.”

James let out a tiny little whine, and Sirius shot Harry a scathing look, as though blaming him for waking the baby. Instead of protesting the look however, Harry laughed, and held out his arms, accepting his son readily from Sirius, and nuzzled the baby’s soft cheek.

“It’s okay, my love,” Harry murmured as he pecked a small kiss to James’s forehead. “It’s okay, Daddy’s home.”

Harry continued to cradle James, cooing to him softly while Sirius shifted next to him until he’d pulled both Harry and James into his lap, his long legs bracketing Harry’s shorter ones, and he placed a gentle kiss to the back of Harry’s neck while he wound his arms around his husband’s waist, cradling both Harry and the baby at once.

“I love you, Harry,” Sirius said softly.

“I love you too, Sirius,” Harry replied.

And this time, he meant it.

 


	23. Epilogue – One Happy Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi guys, here is the final chapter. I am really happy with how it came out, and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.
> 
> This story has been in my life for a very long time, and has seen me through many ups and downs, and all the while you wonderful readers have seen me through it. Without your amazing love and support, I never would have finished this work, so really it is you who should be patting yourselves on the back, because you helped me get here.
> 
> Thank you, and please enjoy the epilogue ^.^

Epilogue – One Happy Family

 

**1** **st** **September, 2020**

“James!” Harry called from the door while he tapped his foot impatiently, “would you _hurry up?_ The train leaves at eleven, and I’ll not take you to Hogwarts if you miss it!”

“What’s the big deal?” James called back, his voice muffled both by the distance, and the fact that his bedroom door was closed. “I’ll just _walk_. We live ten minutes from school, remember?”

“For-to when am I going to Hogwarts?” little Iris asked around her thumb, sucking on it as she gazed up at her father inquiringly. Harry chuckled and scooped the little girl up, and she linked her arms around Harry’s neck as she rested her head on her father’s shoulder, and let out a tiny sigh of contentment.

“Not for a while, love,” Harry replied as he stroked the five-year-old’s unruly dark locks. “But that’s okay, right?”

“If I goes to Hogwarts, I’ll miss you and Papa,” she said. “And you’d be sad if I weren’t here. You’d be all ‘lone.”

“Yeah, we would,” Harry agreed as he kissed her forehead. “I bet your Papa would cry every night if you went to Hogwarts too soon.”

“Then it’s okay,” she said, “I’ll make sure Papa doesn’t have any sads.”

Harry chuckled, and rubbed his daughter’s back gently while he waited for his husband and son to finish getting ready. In comparison to James, who had been a fussy-as-hell baby, but quiet child, Iris was had been a quiet baby, but a _loud_ child.

Even five years later, Harry still couldn’t believe how smoothly the second pregnancy had gone, especially compared to the drama that had ensued during the first one.

Although, that likely had something to do with the fact that Harry hadn’t actually _carried_ Iris.

Harry bit back a chuckle as he remembered it all—from Sirius buckling at the faintest twinge of pain, to how deliciously _horny_ his husband had been ninety percent of the time, to Sirius’s truly horrific food cravings, which had effectively put a kibosh on the peanut butter jokes—somehow, mixing sardines and praline ice-cream together was infinitely worse.

Best of all, despite their healer’s dire warnings of how it could be dangerous for Sirius to carry a child safely to term, it had gone so smoothly, sometimes Harry wondered if it had all been some sort of wonderful dream.

And somehow, out of all that, Sirius gave birth to a beautiful baby girl they’d named Iris Lily Potter-Black.

She would grow up to be beautiful, Harry could see that. Her hair was a glossy black, her eyes were a mirror of Harry’s own vibrant green, and she bore the sharp cheekbones of her Papa, ensuring that she would look every part the princess that they often called her.

“Daddy?” Iris asked, and Harry turned to her, drawn out of his memories by her tiny, tinkling voice.

“Yes, princess?”

“Why is we going to London if James’s school is just there?” Iris asked, pointing in the wrong direction as she spoke, and Harry laughed warmly.

“It’s tradition,” Harry replied. “Do you know what that means?”

“Papa said it’s when you do things only a-cos dead people did it first,” Iris piped, and Harry barked a laugh.

“Of course he did,” Harry said, still giggling a little as his daughter looked on with confusion. “We’re going because one of the best parts of going to Hogwarts is the trip by train. I wouldn’t want to take that away from James just because we live close to school.”

“What’s so special about a train ride?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, her eyes glimmering with curiosity.

“Well...that’s where I first met your Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione.”

“When did you first meet Papa?” she asked excitedly, and Harry bit his lip as he gazed at her, wondering what he should say. He could still recall with perfect clarity Sirius’s gaunt eyes, tangled, matted, greasy hair, tattered Azkaban robes, and horrifying expression upon Sirius’s face from That Night, back when Harry still believed that Sirius had betrayed his parents.

“When I was in third year,” Harry said vaguely, and offered his daughter a smile.

 “That was a super long time ago, wasn’t it, Daddy?” she chirped, and Harry huffed a soft laugh.

"Ages and ages,” Sirius chimed in, grinning as he stepped out of James’s room and sauntered over to Harry and his daughter, kissing Harry gently on the mouth, and Iris on her cheek before he threw out his arm in a dramatic, sweeping gesture towards the hall. “But now’s not the time for thoughts of the past. Harry, Iris, may I present to you, James Sirius Potter-Black!”

Harry cheered and Iris screamed, while an eleven-year-old James sauntered out of his room and into the main area of the cottage, his head held high and his hair newly cut by his Papa, short on the sides, and artfully tousled on top. He was smirking vaguely like his Papa might as he spread his arms wide and turned around, showing off his outfit of simple jeans and a black jumper, and yet somehow the boy still managed to look elegant. He was clearly doing his best to mimic Sirius’s casual beauty, though James hadn’t quite grown enough to achieve that yet, and was stuck, for the moment, on _adorable_.

“James, you look great,” Harry said as he set Iris down, only for her to be immediately scooped up by Sirius, and she shrieked with delight. “All ready to go to Hogwarts?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a grin. “I just wish I didn’t have to sleep there...” he trailed off, his olive complexion tinting pink at the implication behind his words before he hastily added, “because the beds aren’t as comfortable as _my_ bed. I won’t miss you. I’m fine.”

“Of course you won’t,” Sirius filled in, clapping his son on the shoulder with a broad grin. “You’ve grown up into a fine young man, and...and...oh, damn it.”

“See what you’ve done, James?” Harry teased, “you made your Papa cry.”

“Yeah but Papa is _always_ crying,” James pointed out, “he’s like a fountain or something.”

“Quiet, both of you,” Sirius said in between an odd mixture of laughter and sobs. “I’m fine; we need to go, or you’ll miss your train.”

“Well, it’s not a trip to Platform Nine and Three Quarters without almost missing it, I say,” Harry said with a grin as he grabbed James’s trunk that had been set by the door, while James carefully scooped up his caged owl, while Harry waved them outside. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

~*~

 

The Portkey trip was hardly pleasant, but it transported the four Potter-Blacks from Hogsmeade to an alley just outside of King’s Cross in record time, giving them an easy twenty minutes to leisurely meander towards the train station, where they ran into a few familiar faces.

“ _Auntie Hermione!_ ” Iris shrieked at an ear-splitting level, before she began to squirm in her Papa’s arms like a little octopus, at last pausing her fidgeting long enough for Sirius to get on her feet, and she raced across the station before she threw herself bodily at her favourite aunt, who laughed merrily at her exuberance.

“Oh, Iris!” Hermione cried as he offered her a big hug before she set the girl down. “And how is my favourite niece today?”

“Daddy got me a new dress!” she chirped excitedly as she spun around, making the bottle green sundress’s skirt flutter outwards.

“It’s lovely,” Hermione said with a laugh as Iris stopped spinning and smiled brightly up at her aunt. “I had no idea that your Daddy had such good taste.”

“Papa said the _same_ thing!” Iris complained. “Daddy still tastes all his food, I don’t understand why people say that when I show them my dress!”

“Oh, no, honey,” Hermione said with a laugh, “when you say someone has _good taste_ , it means they know how to pick out nice clothes.”

“Ohh,” she trilled, spinning on her heel and making her skirt ruffle again as she looked back to her two fathers, her eyes wide. “ _Papa you have the tastiest taste!_ ”

Harry howled with laughter as Sirius’s cheeks flushed a blotchy pink, several muggles whirling around at the sound of Iris’s shrill, carrying yell, while Harry called back to her, “say again, Iris? I think there’s a few people in France who didn’t hear you.”

Iris took a deep breath, but Hermione was quick to cover her mouth, stopping her from shouting again, and as Harry, James, and Sirius approached, Harry heard Hermione say, “he’s kidding, honey, don’t shout it again.”

“She’s always the centre of attention,” James grumbled, and Harry grinned as he linked an arm over his son’s shoulders and offered him a squeeze.

“It’s just because she’s so much cuter than you, bud,” Harry teased, grinning, “and louder. A _lot_ louder.”

“You know we love you, James,” Sirius added, “but we know you think you’re cool, now that you’re headed to Hogwarts, and we didn’t want to cramp your style by making a big scene.”

“Yet,” Harry quipped. “You know your Papa is going to be a big, blubbery mess when it’s time for you to go.”

“Oh, Merlin, Papa, _don’t_ start crying again,” James said with a groan, “it’s so embarrassing.”

“You know he will,” Ron said as he, Hermione, and their own two kids joined them, and Iris moved back over to her parents, and tugged on Sirius’s hand until he relented and scooped the girl up. “He’s like the male and not dead version of Moaning Myrtle, that Papa of yours.”

“Yeah, it’s _so_ embarrassing,” James complained, “he cries at everything.”

Harry snorted, and moved to wrap an arm around his husband’s waist, pecking his stubbly cheek once before he murmured, “congratulations on becoming the embarrassing parent, love.”

“At least I’m not the no-fun parent,” Sirius retorted just as softly, and Harry snorted, but did not deny or take offence to the remark. True, he was the _no fun dad_ , but at least that kept the chaos under their roof to a bare minimum.

“Come on,” Hermione said, breaking up the conversation, “to Platform Nine and Three Quarters!”

“Papa,” Iris said as they began to move towards the platform. “Can I be an aeroplane through the platform?”

“Sure,” Sirius said with a chuckle, “just let the others pass through first, all right?”

“Okie-day!”

“C’mon, James,” Harry said with a warm chuckle as he rested a hand on his son’s shoulder, and steered him towards the barrier. “It is your day, after all, it’s only right if you get to go first.”

James blushed a little, but he was smiling too, as though he was both pleased and embarrassed by the attention as he straightened up, adjusting his grip on the cart that bore his trunk and owl. After James took a cursory glance around the station, he moved towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten at a run, and disappeared onto the other side.

“Mum, I wanna go next!” Rose cried, and Hermione laughed as she patted her daughter’s shoulder once.

“All right,” she said, “off you go.”

Rose ran through the barrier, followed by Hugo, then Ron and Hermione followed her children through.

“See you on the other side,” Harry said softly to his husband, offering him one quick kiss before he followed his friends through the barrier and onto the platform, where he spotted an embarrassed-looking James being cornered by Molly and Arthur Weasley, who were lamenting over how _proud_ they were of him, and how _excited_ he must be, while Andromeda stood back a little, looking amused, as though James’s embarrassment was almost funny to her. But then, she had always been more gently maternal than Molly was. Though she deeply cared for her grandchildren, she never quite had Molly’s enthusiasm, either.

Teddy was sadly absent, busy at the Ministry with his new internship in the Department of Mysteries, but had sent along his apologies with his owl, though that did not stop James from glancing around the platform hopefully, looking for his favourite cousin.

 

Harry turned back to the platform barrier, content that his child was in no immediate danger, just in time to see Sirius run through with Iris held up above his head, her arms stretched out as she cried, “ _wheeee!_ ” and her fathers both laughed at her antics.

“Can we go again, Papa?” she asked when Sirius slowed to a stop and adjusted his hold on her. “ _Please_?”

“Maybe after James gets on the train,” Harry offered before Sirius could cave to his daughter’s wounded puppy look. “You don’t want to miss out on saying goodbye, right?”

“He’s closer than the sweets shop, Daddy,” Iris pointed out, her tone almost sarcastic, and _very_ much a tiny, female incarnation of her Papa. “I could just walk to the castle if I wants to see him.”

“That’s a long walk for someone who’s so short,” James cut in as he approached, obviously having overheard his little sister.

“Papa would take me,” Iris countered, and crossed her arms. “And I’d go into your lessons and make you all grumpy about your...your...your repetition.”

“ _Reputation_ ,” James corrected on impulse, but Iris didn’t appear to be listening as she wiggled her way down from Sirius’s arms and rushed over to Andromeda excitedly.

“Gran, look at my dress!” she chirped, twirling again, and Harry chuckled to himself as he watched his daughter.

“She loves that dress,” Sirius said with a warm smile as he wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist. “It only took you sixteen years and my influence to give you any kind of fashion sense.”

“And you can finally cook, sort of,” Harry retorted, smiling as he reached up to flick Sirius’s cheek gently, and his husband laughed.

The train let out a high, warning whistle, and Harry jumped into action, saying, “James, come on, we need to get you on the train!”

Harry and Sirius pulled him away from his fawning relatives—much to the boy’s relief—and ushered him towards one of the less packed train cars. Sirius carried James’s trunk onto the train, James disappearing inside, but he came back out a minute later, and after a moment’s hesitation, he reached out and hugged Harry, squeezing him tight around the neck before he did the same to Sirius, who was already a little teary-eyed at the prospect of saying goodbye to their son for the term.

“Now, you behave yourself,” Harry said sternly. “No fighting with three-headed dogs, or giant snakes, or Dementors, or...or...anything. You just...be good, yeah?”

“Okay, Dad,” James said with a laugh, his mouth twitching into a small, amused smile.

“And make sure you send us an owl tonight to let us know where you got sorted,” Sirius added. “Don’t make us storm the castle to make sure you didn’t drown in the lake on the way there or something.”

“And just...” Harry felt his voice catch, and he took a breath to steady himself as he eyed his son. “Just enjoy Hogwarts, and come back to us in one piece.”

Harry hugged his son again, who laughed and whined at Harry’s attitude, but he seemed quietly pleased about it at the same time. Sirius took his turn right after, just as the train gave off another warning whistle, and James rushed onto the train, his head poking out of one of the windows a moment later just as the train began to move, and he waved.

Sirius and Harry lifted their arms, waving until the train disappeared. Harry watched Iris run along the platform, waving exuberantly while she shouted something to her brother, but over the chugging of the engine, Harry wasn’t able to catch it.

Iris walked back to her parents with Andromeda, her head bowed a little, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth.

“Oh, love, what’s the matter?” Sirius cooed as he got down on his knees and pulled his daughter into a hug.

“I—I forgot to say goodbye,” Iris said, her voice shaking as though she was trying to keep from crying. “Can the train come back so I can say goodbye?”

“No it can’t, love,” Sirius said as he kissed the top of her head. “But we’ll write James tonight, yeah? You can say goodbye in a howler.”

“Are you trying to destroy his reputation before he becomes a snot-nosed popular kid?” Harry teased while Sirius straightened up with Iris still in his arms.

“As I recall, _I_ was a snot-nosed popular kid, remember?”

“My point exactly,” Harry retorted, and Sirius barked a laugh.

 

After bidding their goodbyes to the Weasleys as well as Andromeda, the three remaining Potter-Blacks returned home by Portkey. Iris immediately tugged her Papa into the back garden to push her on the swing they’d attached to the oak tree, apparently forgetting her anguish over her brother’s departure.

Harry watched them go with a smile, then trudged back inside to get to work on preparing lunch while he watched his husband and daughter play in the late summer sunshine through the kitchen window. As he did so, little flashes of memory flitted through his mind of the last decade that he’d shared with Sirius.

 

~*~

 

“ _Say it again, love!” Sirius chirped as little James shrieked with delight, bouncing happily in his crib while he gripped the slats of his crib, excited by his Papa’s exuberance and his Daddy’s laughter. “Come on, James,” Sirius encouraged again, “say it!”_

“ _Dada!”_

_Both men cheered, and James squealed again, giggling excitedly as Sirius scooped him up and spun him around joyously._

 

~*~

 

“ _Daddy?” James asked, staring up at Harry and Sirius as the little four-year-old slurped on his ice-cream while they meandered along Diagon Alley, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the lazy, summer Sunday._

“ _Yes, James?” Harry asked, arching a brow at the boy._

“ _How come I don’t have a mum?” he asked, cocking his head to the side a little, his face covered with the melted treat as he spoke. “Rose and Hugo have a mummy and a daddy, how come I don’t?”_

“ _It’s nothing bad, love,” Sirius offered, “some people have a mummy and a daddy, while some people have two daddies, and some have two mummies. But your daddy and I fell in love with each other, not with women, so you got two daddies.”_

“ _Oh.” James paused, and licked his ice-cream again, while Harry offered Sirius a warm smile at his sweet and simple explanation. “Okay. Do bees have two daddies or two mummies or both?”_

 

~*~

 

“ _Fucking shit on a stick,” Sirius moaned as Harry bit his tongue to keep from laughing, and inadvertently waking up his son in the process while he wheeled his very pregnant husband, whose water had broken not ten minutes ago, from the bedroom and towards the Vanishing Cabinet in the sitting room. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want this anymore, Harry, it_ hurts _...”_

“ _Just breathe, love,” Harry replied softly, “in and out. It’s all right, I’ve been there...”_

“ _Not like this,” Sirius shot back, “your birth was scheduled, this little demon is trying to rip its way out of me...”_

“ _Just breathe,” Harry repeated in the most soothing voice he could manage, though Sirius now seemed close to tears, and Harry no longer felt that his husband’s extremely low pain threshold was funny at all—he looked genuinely scared. “We’ll be there soon, we just need to wait for—”_

_Before Harry could finish, their Floo connection flared to life, and Andromeda tumbled out of the fire._

“ _Go,” she said softly, “I’ll bring little James along as soon as he wakes up.”_

_Harry offered her a grateful smile, and rushed into the Cabinet._

 

_~*~_

 

_Baby Iris was fast asleep in Harry’s arms while Sirius dozed, when there was a soft knock upon the hospital room’s door, and Andromeda poked her head in. She beamed when she saw the tiny baby swaddled in the blanket that Harry had gifted Sirius with a few days earlier. It was chequered with pink, blue, and white, along with a white border. It was simpler than the one Sirius had given to Harry for James a few years earlier, but that did not seem to bother his husband at all, and Sirius had wept with joy when he received it._

_Harry smiled as he waved her in, closely followed by his son, who was grasping Andromeda’s hand tightly, his little eyes wide with both wonder and nervousness as he gazed around the room._

“ _Hey, love,” Sirius croaked from the bed, and he motioned for James to come forward. “Come see your tired, tired Papa.”_

_James smiled, and let go of his gran’s hand, rushing towards the bed before he clambered up, and Sirius hugged his son close, but laughed when James’s little smile shifted to a grimace._

“ _What’s wrong, James?” Sirius asked with a little chuckle when their son’s little sour expression became more pronounced._

“ _Your chest is still squishy,” he complained, and patted Sirius’s artificially-grown breasts as though to emphasize his point. “It feels weird.”_

“ _It’s just for a little while,” Harry offered, with a small laugh, “to feed your new baby sister.”_

“ _I have a sister?” James asked, his eyes wide as he whipped his gaze to his other father, and Harry laughed again as he nodded._

“ _Yeah,” Harry replied, “come and see.”_

_James crawled over Sirius’s legs, the six-year-old’s little knobbly knees making his husband wince as they dug into his thighs before James got to Harry. James sat on the edge of the bed, his legs swinging as Harry carefully held out the little bundle for James to see while he added, “we’re calling her Iris. Iris Lily. Your Papa picked it.”_

“ _What a lovely name, Sirius,” Andromeda said approvingly as she bowed forward with James to look at the newborn, she cooing a little at the tiny baby, while James tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy._

“ _She looks all...squishy,” James said. “And tiny. Was I this tiny, Daddy?”_

“ _She sure as hell didn’t_ feel _tiny coming out...” Sirius grumbled, and Harry bit his tongue to keep from reminding Sirius that he had_ elected _to have a natural birth—a new procedure for pregnant men that Harry had thankfully managed to avoid by a hair. After all, it had become available to the public only a year after James had been born._

“ _You were a little bit bigger,” Harry admitted, “but not by that much. Do you like her?”_

“ _Do I have to?” James asked, and both Sirius and Harry snorted._

“ _Well...no,” Harry admitted, “but it’d be nice if you did.”_

 

~*~

 

A shriek from the garden drew Harry back to the present, and he smiled warmly as he watched Sirius push little Iris on the muggle tyre swing. She had always been closer to her Papa, and tended to favour him during playtime, but Harry didn’t really feel too bad about that—Sirius had carried her, after all, so it was only natural that she had a special connection with him, like Harry did with James.

Harry went back to slicing the carrots and cucumber that would be going into the side-salad he was preparing to go along with the sandwiches, and smiled to himself at the pleasant domesticity of it. Even now, he could not help thinking back to the disaster of the Negotiations meeting that had preceded their marriage, and he could still recall with absolute clarity his tentative admission to Sirius that he’d hate being a stay-at-home dad, and yet, here he was, all these years later, and he _loved_ it.

His writing project, too, was almost complete. In between raising two beautiful children and working on his project, it was really amazing how little time he had for himself, though he still managed to squeeze in a game of Quidditch or two with the new coach over at Hogwarts—Oliver Wood.

“Life really has a funny way of working itself out...” Harry muttered to himself as he dumped the cucumber and carrots over the romaine and tomatoes. He transported the salad and tuna sandwiches to the dining room, along with a pitcher of butterbeer and pumpkin juice, before he moved to the back door and cracked it open to call, “ _lunchtime! Come and wash up, you two!_ ”

Iris let out a cry of despair, which shifted to a laugh when Sirius scooped her up from the swing, threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and raced inside.

“I’ll race you to the bathroom sink, princess!” Sirius said as he burst in the back door and set her down, and with a high giggle their daughter raced off, with Sirius in hot pursuit.

“I am living in a _madhouse!_ ” Harry called to them, to which Sirius shouted something indistinct back, but Harry was too far to catch it.

Shaking his head, Harry moved to the dining room, smiling to himself as he began to dole out salad and sandwiches for his family, and pour butterbeer into two tall glasses for himself and Sirius, and pumpkin juice into a sippy cup for Iris.

He had nearly finished serving the food when Sirius and Iris made their return, Harry’s little daughter sitting atop her Papa’s shoulders with a bright smile on her face, which quickly shifted to a pout when she saw the salad on her plate.

“I don’t _like_ green salad, Daddy,” she complained as Sirius plopped her down into her booster seat. “What other colours are there?”

“There’s some orange and red in there,” Sirius said, pointing out the pieces of carrot and tomato. “And you like cucumber.”

“But I don’t like leaves,” she complained, pouting as she gazed up at her parents.

“Well, when you become an adult, you won’t have to eat them if you don’t want to,” Harry replied teasingly, “but you need to eat leaves in order to grow up big and strong, so until then you need to try and like them, okay, princess?”

Iris poked her bottom lip out in a more dramatic pout, prodding at the greens reluctantly, while Sirius helped her to fish out the parts she _did_ like, interspersed with bites from her tuna sandwich, which, predictably, did not include the crusts.

 

“I wish I had your talent for getting her to behave,” Harry said after Iris had been excused, and she ran off to play.

“Or at least eat?” Sirius teased, to which Harry chuckled and nodded.

“Both our kids are just mini-yous,” Harry said, then winced at his tone as he added, “I’m not...upset about that, you know, it’s just I thought I’d see myself in them more than I do at times.”

“James only _looks_ like me,” Sirius pointed out while he waved his wand to clear away the remnants of their lunch, and he replaced it with a pot of tea and two cups. “He’s like you in a lot of ways—stubborn, he doesn’t like being the centre of attention, he’s an _excellent_ flyer...and Iris has your eyes and your hair, and actually was a lot like you when you were little.”

“How d’you know?” Harry asked as he poured them each a cup of tea, “I mean...as a kid, I was at the Dursleys, and you were...er...” Harry trailed off awkwardly, unwilling to say, _in prison_ , but Sirius seemed to understand anyway.

“But before that I spent almost as much time with you as your own parents did,” Sirius said with a small, tender smile. “You were a _hyper_ kid. I think you utterly traumatized your mother’s poor cat, and you were always so full of energy that pretty much everything breakable had to be nailed down— _especially_ after I sent your mum and dad your first broom when you turned one.”

“You know, after all this time, it’s still a bit odd to hear you talk about me as a baby when we’ve been married for so many years...” Harry mused, and chuckled when Sirius leant in to kiss him lightly.

“Want me to stop talking about it, love?”

“No,” Harry replied at once, “it’s nice to have these memories, even if they came about in a bit of an odd way...you know?”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, “I know.”

 

~*~

 

Harry was in the front room early in the evening, gazing out of the window when he saw a narrow plume of steam brush the sky.

“Welcome home, son,” Harry murmured to himself, and with a smile he moved to the kitchen to prepare dinner, while he listened to the distant sounds of Sirius and Iris playing in her room. Their _tea party_ had been going on for the better part of three hours—though Harry could not recall ever being to a tea party himself where there was so much screaming.

“That kid has more energy than a _dragon_ , I swear...” Harry muttered to himself with a warm chuckle as he rolled out the pastry dough that had been chilling, and began to prepare pork pies and mash for dinner.

As he worked, his thoughts turned to James, as he began to imagine his boy clambering off the train, maybe with a new friend in tow, while Hagrid called, “ _firs’ years! Firs’ years!”_ with his lantern held aloft.

Harry knew that James would get embarrassed when Hagrid spoke to him directly, and he would nervously, but easily get into one of the little rowboats at the edge of the lake. Unlike his sister, who was clumsier than a newborn foal, James had always been quite a good waterman, and would likely have no trouble manoeuvring himself into the little boat.

Then, his boy would shyly cluster with the other first years at the castle’s docks (all of whom looked like Harry’s former classmates in his imagination), while Professor Longbottom would confidently step before them, then explain the houses and points system to them before he guided the group away and towards the Entrance Hall.

Harry had a vague inkling of which house James would be sorted into, but he had never shared this view with his husband. Sirius had always been quite vocal about his deep longing for a houseful of Gryffindor offspring, but somehow, Harry doubted that James was Gryffindor material.

Although, Harry was fairly certain that Sirius would get his wish in a few years when it was Iris’s turn to board the train.

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see,” Harry mused as he wrapped the pie filling with the pastry, and lined them all up on a baking sheet carefully. “It won’t be long now.”

 

Dinner passed quietly. Iris seemed to be too tired for her usual expressive chatter, worn out from the exciting day of bidding her big brother goodbye, playing with her Papa, and composing a short but enthusiastic Howler to James, which consisted of Iris shouting, _BYE, JAMES!_ into the red envelope before Sirius sent the Howler off, cackling a little as he did so.

Over their pork pies with mash and gravy, she seemed to almost be nodding off, and didn’t even complain about the peas Harry had snuck into her mash, but perked up a little when Harry offered her her after-dinner treat of hot cocoa topped with an enormous mound of whipped cream.

“’m sleepy, Daddy,” Iris said halfway through her cocoa, and yawned widely as though to emphasize her point. “Is it bedtime yet?”

“Come on, love,” Harry said with a chuckle as he moved to scoop her up from her booster seat, while Sirius took her unfinished cocoa to the kitchen. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“I won’t be this sleepy tomorrow, I promise,” she said, almost as though her fatigue was somehow a crime, but to Harry, it felt more like a dire warning. Normally his daughter was a right terror to get into bed and make her stay there.

Tonight however, Harry was counting his blessings as he gave Iris a short bath, where she stared blearily at her bath toys while her father washed her gently, dried her off, and changed her into her violet nightdress. Harry then helped her to brush her teeth before he carried her to her bedroom.

Iris’s room was a princess wonderland that Sirius had enthusiastically designed for her. Its walls were violet and pink, a sea-green bed with a shell-shaped headboard like a mermaid might have was tucked into the corner below her large bay window. A white chest full of toys rested at the end of the bed, across from it was a bookcase filled with storybooks and toys, and the remaining space was occupied by an enormous dollhouse, a tea set, along with dozens of porcelain dolls, which Harry had always found rather creepy, but Iris seemed to like for some strange reason.

Harry glanced around the room a little as he carried his daughter to bed and tucked her in. He had always found the space to be a little bit of a design disaster, like Sirius had tried to turn it into a little girl’s wonderland, but got carried away in the process. However, Harry knew that Iris liked her room, and in the end, that was all that really mattered.

Iris yawned again as Harry pulled the duvet up to her chin, and she hugged her toy griffin close.

“When will James be back, Daddy?” Iris asked sleepily, and Harry chuckled a little as he reached out to stroke her wildly curly black hair.

“Christmas, love. But I know he’ll write all the time, and Papa and I will help you write him back.”

“That’s a long time, Daddy,” Iris said thoughtfully, “won’t he be lonely?”

“I’m sure he’ll miss us, but he won’t be lonely,” Harry reassured her. “He’ll have his housemates and teachers and everything to keep him company.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied, “as long as he’s not lonely.” She yawned again, burrowing deeper into her blankets and pillows before she asked, “will you tell me a story, Daddy?”

“What sort of story do you want to hear, princess?”

“I dunno. One with a happy ending,” she said, and Harry chuckled warmly.

“All right, let’s see...” Harry trailed off as he thought, and then an idea came to him.

“Once upon a time, there lived a young knight,” Harry began. “He didn’t think of himself as all that special—he was just an ordinary knight who did ordinary things, but the rulers of the land always picked him to do brave stuff, like slay dragons and fight evil wizards.

“Then one day, the knight was told he was to be married. He was to be married to the handsomest prince in all the land, but this prince had been best friends with the knight’s own father, and there was terrible confusion with the knight.

“But the prince was a good man, and he promised to always be good to the knight, and love him dearly, and treasure him always,” Harry continued, smiling fondly at his memories of his and Sirius’s courtship as he spoke. “The knight was scared, but he trusted that the prince was telling the truth, and ever so slowly, the knight fell deeply, deeply in love with the handsome prince, and after they got married, much to the knight’s surprise, he lived happily ever after.”

Harry finished his telling quickly, knowing that it wouldn’t take long for his exhausted child to nod off. When he glanced down at her, he saw that Iris was already asleep.

Harry smiled warmly at his daughter, then leant in to kiss her cheek and stroke her hair one last time before he got up and tiptoed to the door, where he spotted Sirius leaning against the frame, and was gazing at Harry wish an unabashed look of adoration in his eyes.

“The prince loves his knight too, just so you know,” Sirius whispered softly, so as to not wake their daughter. “Very, _very_ much.”

Harry huffed a soft laugh, and moved in to offer Sirius a gentle, tender kiss before he murmured, “you say goodnight to her, and I’ll get us some tea, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, but paused to offer Harry another kiss before they parted ways, Harry to the kitchen, and Sirius to Iris’s bedroom.

Harry took five minutes to put together their evening _grown-up tea platter_ , as they called it, which they always had in the evenings after the kids had gone to bed. It wasn’t much different than a regular tea platter, except there were no sippy cups, and the plain digestives were swapped out for shortbread dunked in dark chocolate—Sirius’s favourite.

Sirius was stretched out on the sofa when Harry reappeared. He smiled at the older man, and fought down the urge to grin at the back of the man’s head, where a few long streaks of grey were visible. Sirius hated his greying hair, but Harry loved it, and though Sirius always did his best to conceal the grey, Harry was entirely unhelpful when he spotted some that Sirius had missed, and always failed to mention it.

“What a day,” Sirius said with a luxuriated sigh as Harry sat down next to him, and he offered the younger man’s knee a small squeeze. “That daughter of ours _really_ doesn’t lack for energy.”

“And just _who_ did she inherit that from?” Harry asked teasingly as he began to pour the tea, while Sirius helped himself to one of the biscuits.

“It’s difficult to say, knowing us,” Sirius replied teasingly, nodding his thanks as he accepted one of the cups from Harry. “But I blame you.”

“Of course you do,” Harry said with a small chuckle, and eased back against the sofa as he sipped his tea. “It _has_ been a long day, though, and James is off at Hogwarts...”

“It doesn’t feel real to me yet,” Sirius said as his gaze drifted to the fire crackling in the grate. “I think it might set in after we start getting letters from him. Right now, I just keep expecting him to wander out of his room and ask if he can have some of my biscuits.”

Harry glanced towards the hall, half-expecting James to appear, but at the same moment a soft tapping upon the sitting room window drew his and Sirius’s attention, and Harry grinned.

“Speak of the devil,” Harry remarked with a soft chuckle, and he got up to receive the letter from the creature, who he recognized immediately as James’s little barn owl, Levi.

Harry relieved the owl of his letter, and it immediately fluttered to its old perch near the fire, and dipped its beak into the water for a drink while Harry unrolled the little scroll, and smiled.

“Well?” Sirius demanded almost at once. “Don’t leave me in suspense, Harry! Tell me what house our boy got sorted into!”

Grinning, Harry began to read aloud.

 

_Dear Dad and Papa,_

_Please tell Iris to watch her back at Christmas, I am going to_ _ kill _ _her for that stupid Howler. It showed up in the middle of the Sorting, and I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life._

_I’ve been sorted into Ravenclaw. Sorry, Papa, hope you’re not too cross about that, but at least I’m in the same house as Rose, and so I had someone to talk to once the feast started._

_I’ll write soon once lessons start, and please kill Iris for me._

_James_

 

“It’s good to know our kids are so warm and fuzzy towards one another,” Sirius said fondly once Harry finished reading, and laughed.

“But you’re okay, though?” Harry asked as he set down the letter on the table next to their tea tray, and eased back down next to his husband.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, you’ve been talking for the last decade about our kids getting into Gryffindor, and James was sorted into Ravenclaw instead,” Harry filled in, and arched a brow at him. “So...are you okay?”

Sirius leant back against the sofa, a thoughtful smile flitting across his lips, one hand cradling the teacup he still held. He reached out the opposite limb, and he took Harry’s hand, offering it a gentle, loving squeeze. Harry smiled, and he shifted his grip so that they could thread their fingers together.

“Yeah,” Sirius replied at last, his voice warm. “I’m good.”

 

The End

 


End file.
